Albus Potter and the Abyssal Vortex
by NoahPhantom
Summary: *SERIES COMPLETE!* Book 7 of 7, sequel to "Albus Potter and the Chaos Contagion." (Read all previous installments first!) The fate of the world hangs in the balance as Albus discovers there is a very fine line between power and madness, a very blurry line between right and wrong, and no line at all between our world and the Abyssal Vortex. FINALLY COMPLETE!
1. The New Dismiusa

_**READING ALL SIX PRIOR INSTALLMENTS IS ABSOLUTELY ONE HUNDRED PERCENT COMPLETELY ENTIRELY NECESSARY. It all will make far less sense if you start here, and even the first chapter of this installment has massive series-wide spoilers.**_

_**There's not much else to say, is there? Time to get right into it! Hope you enjoy the final installment of this Albus Potter series! I've been waiting to write this last book for years and I have been working my hardest to make sure it lives up to the expectations of this amazing community that's followed me for so long. Without you, there wouldn't be this. Thank you, and happy reading!**_

* * *

ALBUS POTTER AND THE ABYSSAL VORTEX

O

CHAPTER ONE

The New Dismiusa

O

CHAPTER TWO

Dead or Alive

O

CHAPTER THREE

The Kill Switch

O

CHAPTER FOUR

Memory Lane

O

CHAPTER FIVE

The Desert Island

O

CHAPTER SIX

The Cairo Flyby

O

CHAPTER SEVEN

A Nice Foreboding Drop-In

O

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Fokii's Flower

O

CHAPTER NINE

The Chaos Drain

O

CHAPTER TEN

Bloodbombs

O

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ilka

O

CHAPTER TWELVE

Werora of the Waves

O

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Inner Nature

O

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hijack and Hightail

O

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Solaerial Summit

O

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Hostage

O

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Propheteers

O

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Clashing Shadows

O

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Burning Day

O

CHAPTER TWENTY

Eyes for an Eye

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The First Prophecy

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Skull and Crossroads

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Pandoran Catalyst

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Superstorm

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

On the Scent

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Severing the Strings

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Harry Potter Effect

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Phoenix Anthem

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Battle for the Ministry of Magic

O

CHAPTER THIRTY

The Abyssal Vortex

O

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Board a Train

O

EPILOGUE

Nine Years Later

O

* * *

O

CHAPTER ONE

THE NEW DISMIUSA

O

He walked into the tavern, keeping his hood up. He looked around until his eyes fell on the young man he was supposed to meet, and he slid onto a stool beside him.

"Grody," he said.

The man, not yet twenty, turned his head slightly, and smirked when he saw the hood. "Hullo, Pierce," he said with a slight slur. "At least, I assume that's you. How's the face?"

Pierce glared.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Grody with a grin, downing the rest of his drink.

"I don't fancy being seen by anyone else," grunted Pierce. "Cuz I'm sure no one else would fancy seeing me here."

"This is a Muggle tavern," said Grody with a shrug. "Who's going to recognize you? Come on, have a few frinks—ah. Drinks. Well, don't have as many as I've had."

"The _target_ could recognize me," said Pierce.

"Dude. Relax. You're Polyjuiced."

"Quiet, you dimwit," said Pierce. "We don't want anyone else to know we're wizards, okay? Some Muggles are still sensitive about that. And we don't know how long we're going to be here. Hence the hood. I don't want to run out of Polyjuice, suddenly have my skin start bubbling and then pull my hood up. That'll attract worse suspicion."

"Scratch what I said earlier," said Grody. "You definitely need _way more_ drinks than I've had. Perhaps they'll help you forget that catastrophic failure of yours that decommissioned the Shadow's Engine when you let Lupin walk right in to blow it up. You know, the explosion that destroyed your face?"

Pierce continued to glare.

Grody smirked and shrugged, and then turned to the bartender. "Hey! Bitch!"

Much to her credit, the bartender still smiled warmly at him and prepared another drink.

"Two this time," said Grody. "One for the puckered anus sitting next to me, and… eh, hell, I've had too much already. Two for the puckered anus sitting next to me."

"Stop it," muttered Pierce. "Just find the—"

"No, it's okay, I'm paying," said Grody. "Picked me up some Muggle money earlier just for the occasion—"

"You say one more word that could give away that we're wizards, and you're dead," said Pierce. "You know the Man. He's not fond of loose ends, or loose lips."

The bartender placed the drinks on the table in front of Pierce, but he didn't touch them. She eyed the pair carefully—Pierce gripped his wand inside his sleeve—but then she left to serve other customers.

"Eh, I'm not sure," drawled Grody, though he did lower his voice. "Ever since Auchland finally revealed himself to us as the Man in the Shadows, I've kind of lost a lot of respect for him. Ya know?"

"No, I don't know," said Pierce, his eyes narrowing.

"He had it made, he was Head Auror and a potential for Minister for Magic," said Grody. "And then he lost his shit and got kicked out of office."

"Auchland may play the fool, but he does it purposefully," said Pierce. "He's not going to seek politics anymore—why would he? He's far more powerful ruling from the shadows. And the longer that people mistakenly believe that he's a bumbling idiot, the better. He's drawn any and all suspicion away from himself by feigning total incompetence."

"It just… doesn't seem like feigning, to me," chuckled Grody, taking some money out of his wallet. "Let's see… what is this? Merlin, this crap confuses me. They pay with paper? Can't anyone just take a piece of paper and draw the symbols on it to make it look like money? And what happens if this shit gets ripped, or wet? Man, Muggles are stupid. Can't wait until we don't have to deal with 'em anymore." He placed some money down on the table. "Is that right?"

Pierce rolled his eyes. "Hell if I know."

"Right," said Grody. "Well, if the bitch says something, just kill her, she'll be dead soon anyway and the world will miss neither her nor her bitch face. I'm gonna go grab a dance."

He stepped over to the floor where a small, ratty band was playing some strange tune. Several scantily clad girls were grinding on some drunken teenagers, and the girls eyed Grody's handsome face as he approached.

Grody cast his gaze around for a moment before settling on a gorgeous blonde who was undulating her hips on top of a muscular twenty-something in a chair. Grody gently took her arm and grinned down at the man she was with.

"Mind if I borrow this?" he crooned.

The man furrowed his brow, and the blonde looked at him curiously. Grody took both his hands and pressed his pants closer to his skin, and when the girl saw the impressive bulge he was sporting, she left her first man in the snap of a finger and they were swaying on the dance floor.

Their hands were everywhere; ten seconds into their dance there wasn't a place on either's body that hadn't been thoroughly catalogued by the other. Grody pressed himself up against the blonde tightly and bit down on the succulent curve of her neck; she moaned in a low tone that sent shivers down his spine. He dragged his teeth down closer to her breast, and his hands dove deep into the back of her pants. Her back arched in pleasure.

"More?" murmured Grody with a grin.

She jerked her head towards the restrooms. Grody nodded and pressed their faces together, sneaking his tongue in for a moment before they wandered off in that direction.

They entered the lavatory and burst into the stall, attached at the face, and fell into a stall. A few men who were washing their hands rolled their eyes and stepped out. Grody closed the door behind him with his foot (as his hands were occupied) and began undressing his female companion. She cupped his groin, rubbing it as he worked.

Grody slid off her shirt and felt down her pants. He stroked her legs fully, making sure there was nothing but leg. And then, once he was fully satisfied that she did not have a wand, he pulled his own wand out from an undetectable sleeve pocket, and pressed it against her throat. Her eyes bulged, and he leaned in close.

"Thought you'd sneak out to a Muggle tavern for a quick fuck, did you?" he whispered. "Didn't think anyone would find you? Sorry, little girl, but that's not the way the world works anymore. Not even a Polyjuice Potion can hide Lucy Weasley now."

The stall door opened, and Pierce loomed overhead.

"Excellent work, Grody," said Pierce. "You may take her."

"Too bad I had to cut us off so soon," said Grody, still to Lucy. "I would have loved to let you suck me off before I took you in, but we've got schedules to keep, and a Minister for Magic to blackmail with his daughter."

"Let's just hope Wilcox doesn't end up with the Minister position once we've ousted Weasley," said Pierce. "Or else the Man in the Shadows might have to face off against Wilcox… and honestly, I'm not sure who would win."

He jabbed his wand; her body became rigid, and her limbs were locked to her sides. Grody flexed his fingers and grabbed hold of Lucy's arm, and then Disapparated, and Pierce followed shortly after.

O

"New report," said Auchland, leaning back in his chair. "Red Pierce and Lyle Grody have captured Lucy Weasley. Just heard it directly from them."

"And they have secured her?" replied Wilcox, twiddling his thumbs.

"They have," said Auchland. "That would almost make up for Pierce letting Lupin in to destroy the Shadow's Engine, except for the fact that it doesn't nearly make up for that."

"Excellent," said Wilcox. "The Minister for Magic now answers to us. That's one of the final steps."

"Spectacular," said Auchland, rubbing his hand together. "And my first official act as Minister shall be to begin the eradication of all non-magical 'people.' Of course, the public need not know that…"

"You are not going to become Minister," said Wilcox. "Plans have changed."

Auchland cut himself off, but then his face contorted in rage—

"And I know you're not going to complain about it, because you know the deal," said Wilcox. "I am the mastermind. I got us this far and my word is law."

"You are also the reason for our only loose end," growled Auchland.

"True," said Wilcox. "I _am_ the reason that there is only _one_ loose end."

"It's a pretty fucking enormous loose end," said Auchland.

"Albus Potter has nothing on us," said Wilcox. "I am everywhere. Unseen and everywhere. If he pokes his head through a door one time to try and warn someone, I'll be there, and I'll destroy his mind for good this time with no Dalton Desulgon there to protect him. And I suspect we'll find him even before he sticks his nose out; I'm good at that."

"But you haven't found him yet."

"There appears to be some lingering protection," said Wilcox. "Some form of the Moramorary Devoctrix, I suspect, as Desulgon sacrificed his mind for Albus Potter. He must have had more emotion than I anticipated. But soon it'll wear off. Albus Potter is almost of age."

"That holds true for everyone, does it?"

"It's most powerful when the subject of the Devoctrix is underage. The Trace breaks at seventeen for similar reasons. But that's not what we're discussing."

"Yes," said Auchland, leaning back again and folding his fingers so tightly that they turned white. "We were discussing how you've misled me into believing I was going to become Minister."

"You were intended to take the position for a while," said Wilcox, "but then again, so was I for some time. Now I worry that it will be too obvious. de Rière is going to become Minister for Magic."

"She's not with us," said Auchland, furrowing his brow. "Or have you lied to me about that, too?"

"No, she's not with us," said Wilcox. "That's the point. We'll frame her. Make it appear as if she IS working with the Man in the Shadows… because most of the intelligent people have already assumed that we would take out Percy Weasley and replace him with one of our own. We'll plant very subtle evidence and schedule some very not-so-subtle deaths. Let the 'good guys' 'discover' her for what she actually isn't, because they'll definitely be looking just in case. de Rière will go down in flames by the wands of her own allies, and nobody there will trust each other anymore. Su Jun will take over to ensure our control of the Ministry. No one has suspected her in the slightest, and they'll feel safe with a Head Auror in the post of Minister. And the populace will be under the belief that they dodged a bullet, by finding out about de Rière and taking her down before she'd done too much damage."

"Excellent," said Auchland. "But still. Potter."

"Potter is hidden from my vision, but his birthday is in two weeks," said Wilcox. "We'll see him soon enough."

"And if he's figured something else out, like how to hide from you?"

"There is nowhere he can hide from me," said Wilcox. "I have, for some time, been using the Locubic Devoctrix to locate every host of the Chaos Contagion. That is how I found most of the Devoctrix scholars… And we know that Albus Potter is indeed a host."

"And if he hides in a Concosmic universe," said Auchland, "like the Hourglass Empire? Will you still be able to see him?"

"I'll have… one of my two closest acquaintances stationed in the Hourglass Empire," said Wilcox. "I have some business to take care of down there anyway. Wouldn't want another one of my Horcruxes to be discovered by the Loch Stock Liner, so I'm putting it where the Liner won't find it."

"But you own the Liner."

"It could be compromised at any time," said Wilcox.

"What did you do with Milo and Salvo, anyway?" asked Auchland.

"Milo is in Azkaban for 'killing Salvo.' It seemed the cleanest."

"No one will believe he was involved in Salvo's death, no matter what you did with the body. You understand that, yes?"

"No one would have believed that Vanessa Varnisse or Lynwood Chinch could have been capable of murder, either," said Wilcox. "Strange things are happening these days. No one is safe."

Auchland grunted.

"You ought to have faith in me after all I've done," said Wilcox. "Don't worry. Albus Potter cannot hide forever. Even if he were to conceal himself in a Concosmic world, what would he even be able to do from there? As soon as he leaves, I'll notice, and I'll destroy his mind, and then the world will understand that anything he's said against me was simply an insane rambling. Especially given that I'm keeping my head low and staying _away_ from positions of power, as far as they know. And besides, if he doesn't get caught, the Chaos Contagion will take his mind soon enough anyway. It's only a matter of time, since he doesn't know how to control it."

"Perhaps Desulgon taught him."

"Desulgon had no time to teach him. He was rarely ever in Hogwarts, and I kept an eye on him when he was."

Auchland shook his head. "I am just saying… The Potters have a way of stumbling into puzzles and accidentally solving them. We shouldn't take this lightly."

"And exactly what has led you to believe I'm taking Albus Potter lightly?" said Wilcox.

"Your general tone, it's—"

"I am _not_ taking him lightly," said Wilcox, calmly but so forcefully that even the rigid Obydin Auchland flinched. "I am going to find him and expunge his sanity. Like licking my fingers and pinching out a candle. He's already burned down to the base and he's flickering. And I am doing all that I can to find him, so there is little on which to worry. Not even the Cloak can conceal him from an eventual Death, and Death serves _me_ now."

"Now that's what I like to hear," said Auchland.

"What you do and do not like to hear has no bearing on the plan," said Wilcox. "I will remind you that you are not my number two. You're not even my number three. So quit your power plays."

"I don't know what you mean," said Auchland, squinting.

"Acting like you're the one who's galvanized my stronger reaction to Albus Potter," said Wilcox. "I'm already doing what needs to be done, and you're currently wasting my time here. So you can stop pretending I need advice in any form. I don't. You are here only to report to me the status of the stalk of Lucy Weasley, and to receive orders. Any insubordination in the future, including even the slightest inquiry about something I have not decided to discuss with you, will be met with more than just a conversation. We're entering a critical stage of the process and you're not going to sit here acting like you're my equal without me putting you back in your place."

Auchland rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"No," said Wilcox. "It's not."

Auchland glowered at him. "Fine, it's not."

Wilcox glared back. "I will kill you in a heartbeat if I decide that you're a threat to my success. Understand that fully."

Auchland nodded, and something like fear crossed behind his eyes for the briefest of moments.

"If you disobey me, you are dead," said Wilcox, immediately pouncing on the temporary vulnerability. "You know of my two top men, though you don't know who they are. And you know they will find you even if I don't. So you will stay in line."

"I will," said Auchland, and he shifted in his seat and changed the subject. "Then, may I ask, what is my role to be now, if I am not taking the position of Minister for Magic?"

"You are going to be Headmaster of Hogwarts," said Wilcox.

Auchland blinked. "I am?"

"Yes," said Wilcox. "Tomorrow, a most unfortunate accident will occur. My poor, depressed son is going to commit suicide."

"So that's happening tomorrow," said Auchland. "How sad."

"Indeed," said Wilcox. "I will be quite distraught by this tragedy. I will not want to set foot back into Hogwarts again for fear of being constantly reminded of his death, and this horrible trauma will lead me to leave my position as Headmaster. You will take over as Headmaster of the school, under direct orders from Percy Weasley. We have his daughter now; he wouldn't dare do anything about it."

"And the world will still believe you to be neutral," said Auchland. "Brilliant."

"Yes," said Wilcox. "That was part of the impetus behind my construction of the plan and was therefore unnecessary to cite. I would prefer if you would keep your end of the conversation to a minimum, Obydin. Meaning you should only speak to inform me of new developments or to voice your understanding of my plans."

Auchland's nostrils flared. "Understood."

"Excellent," said Wilcox. "Now, have we found a new Muggle Studies teacher to replace Rhuavone for the coming year?"

"Yes," said Auchland. "Aethan Maddox has expressed desire to interview for the position. I assume you remember him."

"Of course," said Wilcox. "The mute boy who won the Dueling Tournament almost every year he'd entered. I made him Head Boy. And he was a Slytherin… Good choice. Is he a supporter of the cause?"

"He's a Muggle Studies teacher," said Auchland. "It is kind of difficult to be. And we have a hard time reading his mind… His spoken language abilities never developed, so it's difficult for us to understand what's going on in his head. It's like he's developed his own language for expressing his thoughts inside his mind."

"Keep an eye on him," said Wilcox. "He's also head of Witches and Wizards with Disabilities, but I'd planned on eradicating all people with disabilities like deafness, blindness, muteness. They drag society down almost as much as Muggles."

"People will notice if you kill a teacher, and students," said Auchland.

"There you go again," said Wilcox. "I know, Obydin. I'm not going to kill them in the castle. I'll stage large-scale deaths and our targets will be in the mix, a few at a time. Avoids suspicion to what we're doing when we do it that way. Understand?"

"Understood," growled Auchland.

"Good, but I will not always consent to explain my plans like this," said Wilcox. "So don't get used to it." He stood up from his chair, and began to pace around the large office. "Then the staff is complete, apart from your vacated Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. I'll look into whether Leslie Tetchel would be up for the task. And, now that I think about it, it may also be best to remove Dottie from the school. She's already drawn too much suspicion, more than I would like, and she would serve a better use as a mobile unit. Perhaps standing guard over the development of the new Engines."

Auchland's eyebrows lifted; he hadn't been aware that new Shadow's Engines had been constructed, but he opted not to say anything based on Wilcox's earlier reactions.

"And what are the newest developments on the N.S.?" said Wilcox, still pacing.

"Still theorizing, but getting closer," said Auchland.

"When did you last check in with the researchers?"

"Yesterday," said Auchland.

"Check again tonight and report back to me," said Wilcox. "Too much relies on my ability to repel any attempt at resistance, in case one cog of our machine slips out of place. We need immediate access to the power that will allow me to become a new Dismiusa."

"I thought you said your plans were foolproof," said Auchland. "Why have a backup plan?"

Wilcox gave him a venomous glare, and Auchland inadvertently recoiled.

"Always have a Plan B," said Wilcox. "But never tell anyone that you have it, because that'll make them suspect you don't have confidence in Plan A. I think you've heard me say that before. Now, I _did_ tell you my Plan B, but only because I need you to understand _why_ it is so important that we constantly keep up with any developments from our research team, even daily… and because I seem to have recalled telling you that you are to keep your mouth shut on matters like this, so you should not have doubted me in the first place."

Auchland stared back at him, without answering.

"You'll find me at my house, poisoning my son's mind. Use the secure transport."

"Of course," said Auchland.

"I—"

Wilcox's eyes flashed, and he snapped his jaw shut. For a moment, he stared into nothingness, and then his eyes twitched madly for a second before he calmed himself.

Auchland leveled his gaze. He didn't dare ask Wilcox what had just happened—he had already been told too many times today that such action would apparently be "stepping out of line." Instead, he waited for Wilcox to tell him on his own accord.

"Never mind," said Wilcox.

"Never mind… what?" said Auchland.

"You'll find me here tonight instead," said Wilcox. "I just received word that my son is no longer at my house."

Auchland hadn't been expecting that. "What?" he asked. "Then where is he?"

"For some reason… I cannot tell," said Wilcox. "There are very few explanations to someone disappearing from my sight, and I think I know what the explanation for this is."

Auchland swallowed his question and waited for Wilcox to answer it of his own accord.

"Lupin," said Wilcox. "He must have taken my son to wherever Desulgon was holed up out of my sight."

"Why would he do that?" asked Auchland. "Out of pity? Did they know you were going to do away with him?"

"No, you idiot," said Wilcox. "Isn't it obvious?"

Auchland kept silent on this one for different reasons.

"Part of the reason for choosing Exorian in particular would be due to pity, yes," said Wilcox. "But more specifically, it's because Lupin is looking for Desulgon. He knows that getting Desulgon back into the fight is their only chance. And if Exorian bites him during the full moon, Desulgon may be cured of the Chaos Contagion."

"But I thought that you said becoming a werewolf would render you forever unable to cast another Devoctrix," said Auchland. "Isn't that why you didn't do it to yourself?"

"But if he had his mind back… he could teach them," said Wilcox.

He looked out the window, and sighed.

"We'll just have to find him first."

"Are we looking for Teddy too, then?" asked Auchland.

"Yes," said Wilcox, keeping his gaze out the window. "But he's probably in Desulgon's little hideout right now. I haven't sensed him in a while. He knows that without Desulgon as a bodyguard, there's nothing stopping us from killing him on the spot, so I don't know if he's going to be sticking his head out for a while." He looked over at Auchland. "And have you liaised with Werora recently?"

Auchland nodded. "Two days ago."

"She's happy keeping her position and keeping our secret?"

"Seems that way," said Auchland. "Is she a liability?"

"Only if she realizes the true extent of her power," said Wilcox. "Which is why we need to keep up our tabs on her. She's achieved the power I've been after—she's the new Dismiusa. And I need to know how she did it."

"She's really got that much power?"

"She does. But like Dismiusa, and even Herpo the Foul, she has yet to unlock its true, absolute, unbridled potential. Keep in contact with her and try to figure out her secrets. I have my theories, of course, but…"

"But no one's allowed to know _your_ secrets, except you," said Auchland.

Wilcox glared at him.

"I never said I wanted to," said Auchland, holding up his hands. "Because if it made me start acting the way _you're_ acting, I don't think I'd like to take that fate, regardless of the power I—"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Auchland was cut off mid-sentence as Wilcox's wand flew out and the lethal green jet blasted through the air and struck him directly in the heart. He toppled over and slammed into the ground on his back.

He gasped out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding, and he threw his hands onto his chest, searching for his body—was he still alive, was he still here?

"You might as well get up," said Wilcox. "Next time you won't be able to."

Auchland scrambled to his feet and stared at Wilcox.

"You've failed to understand my direct orders almost one too many times," said Wilcox. "The main qualification of members of my ranks is their _ability to follow my orders._ I've requested that you stop being a vexing cunt but it has had no effect on you. I hope that little demonstration _will_ have an effect. Because next time, I won't restrain myself. Agitating me can only serve to slow us down. I can't spare any time at this stage of our conquest, but I _can_ spare a few idiots. Do you think you understand now?"

"Yes," said Auchland, swiftly and obediently.

"Are you planning on continuing your piteously awful sardonic inanities?"

"No, sir."

"Then you may go," said Wilcox. "Keep looking for Albus Potter, Desulgon, Lupin, and my son, and keep trying to get to the heart of the Werora question. Don't fail me. People who get in my way tend to end up dead."

"Understood, sir," said Auchland. "And I'll find you here?"

"Come here if you must speak to me directly," said Wilcox. "If I'm not here, wait for me. I know when someone's come to visit and I'll be with you shortly."

Auchland stood up and left about as fast as his legs could carry him.

Wilcox stood up. Gutting Auchland like that might have been enjoyable to another man, but Wilcox knew he shouldn't have even _had_ to gut him. The prospect of world domination had turned Auchland from a devious politician into a power-hungry maniac… but then, there wasn't much of a difference there. In either case, nothing was going to make Wilcox satisfied until the world was his. Until then, there was no time to smile unless it was for the purpose of deception.

Wilcox turned and Apparated into Hogwarts, landing directly in front of the blank stretch of wall of which he'd grown so fond. He paced back and forth a few times until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. Casting the spell to unseal the door, he opened it, and then he calmly stepped into the Abyssal Vortex.


	2. Dead or Alive

CHAPTER TWO

DEAD OR ALIVE

O

"_Worlds in turmoil, both magical and non-magical… Details are just now being disclosed of the incident. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is in shock as student Albus Potter fatally injured a teacher and nearly ended the lives of several others. It has been reported that Albus Potter lost his mind to a rare mental disorder associated with indulgent use of Dark magic. His father, Harry Potter, famed for ending the Second Wizarding War, could not be reached for interview._

"_Professor of Potions at Hogwarts, Zayn Valon, was killed by a Shatterbolt, a spell cast by Albus Potter, so difficult that few wizards have ever cast it in their lifetimes. Potter reportedly attempted to kill Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Obydin Auchland, also a former Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic, but his attempt was unsuccessful. The crossfire, however, injured student Kayla Reagan, who was hospitalized from the incident and is now faced with total and permanent loss of hearing, from being so close to the literally deafening explosion. She is recovering in the hospital of magic, St. Mungo's, but her condition is irreparable even with magic._"

"Shit," breathed Albus, casting his glance down at his twiddling thumbs, away from the doom and gloom of the evening news. "Well… at least Kayla survived."

"Glad to hear," said Alec, patting his shoulder from across the table. "That must be a load off your mind, eh?"

"So many loads on my mind, I doubt the removal of one will even make a difference," said Albus.

"We'll try to lighten your burden," said Aidan, nudging his arm against Albus's.

"Yeah, like we lightened your hair," said Alec. "And if it's another load off, let me tell you, you look _fantastic_ in blond."

"It's not," grumbled Albus. "And I definitely don't look fantastic. I look like I should be wearing skin-tight jeans and eyeliner and clinging to a fifty-year-old sugar daddy."

"We should change it a little bit," said Aidan, frowning. "Now that we're out in public for the first time in a while… I know we look different enough, but still, we want to look the kind of different that isn't going to attract any attention at all. Unfortunately, you're attracting attention. I've seen at least half a dozen people checking you out since we've gotten here, Al."

"Could be worse," said Alec, pointing to his head, which was completely shaved. "At least you're still sexy. I look like fuckin' Voldemort."

Aidan rolled his eyes. "Hey, I'm the one who had to get his _skin_ bleached. If anyone's complaining it should be me."

"The token minority," said Alec. "Honestly, I'm glad you remembered that your skin color was a giveaway. I keep forgetting you're half African."

"I'm fully English, thank you, but yes, my dad's skin color also happened to be black," said Aidan. "And we know certain people are on the lookout for three guys, one of whom happens to be dark-skinned, so it was kind of necessary to find all of our defining attributes and mask them. Like Albus's eyes. Hence the blue colored contacts."

"Yes, and like my luscious locks," pouted Alec, clutching at the air above his head. "Ah, well. Beats being murdered."

Albus twitched and looked around. Even though he really wanted to eat legitimate food, and see what the news was saying about what was going on in the outside world, and even though this was a popular diner with very little chance of them being distinguished from the crowd, he still felt incredibly vulnerable. Especially now that there was no Desulgon looking out for him. Desulgon could be anywhere… or even dead. He doubted Wilcox would just announce it to the skies if they'd gotten him.

"_Another teacher, Dalton Desulgon, Professor of Transfiguration and renowned duelist and researcher, could not be located after the incident. Headmaster of Hogwarts Helio Wilcox has also just handed in his resignation after his son vanished in a similar fashion, saying that he has failed to be in charge of one child and can no longer justify being in charge of all of the children at Hogwarts. His replacement is currently being considered, but no prime candidate has presented him or herself as of yet._"

"I didn't know Wilcox was going to be retiring," said Alec softly.

"Probably to have more time on his hands, with less scrutiny," said Aidan. "Damn. I was hoping he'd still be occupied at Hogwarts for as much time as possible so he'd have less time to look for us."

"_If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of Albus Potter, please contact your local news station, and the police of the magical world will be notified._"

A picture of Albus appeared on the large television screen, and Albus looked away casually, hoping that the hair and colored contacts would be enough to throw off suspicion.

"You need to relax," said Aidan. "They'll be looking for people who look tense. I know that you're very tense, but I'm actually not just saying that to tell you to chill out. We stand out way more when you look nervous about something."

Albus nodded, and tried to get the most natural-looking smile possible to stretch across his face. He looked up at a movement next to their table, hoping the waitress had come over with their dinners, but it was an unfamiliar black-haired man in his early or mid-twenties. He was eyeing Albus down specifically, with a curious look on his face as he passed by their table very slowly.

"He recognized me," said Albus under his breath.

"No, he didn't," said Aidan, sounding remarkably calm.

"Did you see the look on his face?" said Albus, starting to panic inwardly. "He definitely thinks he's seen me before. That was the 'I know you' look!"

"No it wasn't," laughed Alec. "That was the 'I _want_ to know you' look."

"I—what?" said Albus.

"Your hair, it's just… It's super gay," said Alec.

"Here's everything except the milkshake," said a woman with an Irish accent; the waitress had returned before Albus could respond, and she began placing their food all around the table. "Crazy what's been on the news lately, eh? You hear about that Albus?"

Albus started, very noticeably, but this time he felt it was justified. His heart pounded into overdrive, and he started to sweat—had she just referred to him by name?

"I said, did you hear about that Albus?" she said, looking at Albus with concern. "And are you alright? I didn't screw up your order, did I?"

"No, everything's fine," said Aidan. "Thank you!"

Albus tried to calm himself down. She hadn't asked Albus by name if he'd heard about that—she asked him if he'd heard about that Albus kid. He needed to stop thinking that everything that occurred around him was his identity being revealed… But if at one point, it was, then it would pay to have been paranoid. So, paranoid he remained.

"Okay," said Albus. "We've got our food. _Now_ can we go?"

"We have to eat," said Aidan, calmly reminding him. "And pay."

"Let's pay, take the food, and go," said Albus.

"We didn't get it to go," said Alec. "These aren't our plates."

"We'll pay a little extra," insisted Albus.

Aidan picked up Albus's fork and knife, and cut off a small piece of the steak he'd ordered. He speared it on the fork and placed the fork in Albus's hand. "Come on," he said. "Try a piece of this first. Then make a decision."

Albus opened his mouth begrudgingly, and stuffed the steak inside.

He had underestimated how good actual food would taste after four weeks of camping.

"We could… stay a little while longer," he said.

O

After no other incidents at dinner, they returned to their campsite. Alec pulled out his Muggle handheld game set, recharged its battery with his wand, and flipped it on again. Aidan pulled out a History of Magic book. Albus sat and thought. Now that they had been out in the open for some time that day, he couldn't help but fear that Wilcox knew where they were now, and that it was only a matter of time before their tent came under siege and they were all killed.

Aidan peered over the top of his book. "Albus, your face is so nervous it's giving me ulcers when I'm not even looking. Relax, okay?"

Albus shook his head. "We're wanted dead or alive and we were just out in public for _hours._ We should never have gone."

"Honestly, Albus, you're beginning to bother me a lot," said Aidan. "Yes, Wilcox wants us, and he wants us dead or alive. More likely dead. So if he knew where we were, we'd be dead right now. He wouldn't be biding his time. I really do think that it's because you're still underage that he can't find us."

"Then we need to get moving," said Albus, standing up. "I'm turning seventeen in a couple of weeks. We need to find somewhere to stay."

"Sit down, Albus, we've discussed this," said Alec. "The Hourglass Empire is our best bet. Try to take a load off for a night, okay? We can't spend every second of every day worrying about Wilcox, or we'll go insaner than he is." He shook his game. "AW—you made me lose a life! See where your worrying gets us?"

"Losing a life is exactly what I'm worried about," muttered Albus.

"How long are we going to have to deal with this?" said Aidan. "How many times are we going to have to have this discussion? Because we came out here to help you defeat Wilcox, not to help you get over your anxiety."

"The Hourglass Empire could be unsafe for us, too," said Albus.

"_Everywhere_ is unsafe for us," said Alec. "But the Hourglass Empire is probably the _least_ most unsafest. For us. I think. Did I say that right?"

"I'll get a translator on it when I can," said Aidan. "Where would you suggest as an alternative, Albus?"

"I don't kn—"

"Exactly," said Aidan, looking back down at his book. "Then the Hourglass Empire it is."

"My point is that we should _keep_ thinking," said Albus, "instead of clutching to the first thought that popped into my head. Maybe there's a better place we can think of if we're not reading and playing video games!"

"I'm actually doing some heavy research," said Aidan, lifting up his book. "On the origin of all magic. I've already found some fascinating connections that I think will help tell us some important things about the Devoctrices."

"And I'm… working on my hand-eye coordination," said Alec. "You know. For duels and stuff."

Albus rolled his eyes and flopped down on his cot.

"Obviously Wilcox isn't as good at hide-and-seek as he'd like to think, so don't worry too much about it," said Aidan. "He hasn't gotten our families yet, I don't think."

"My dad's good at hiding, too," said Albus. "The problem is, that means _I_ can't find him, either."

"You don't need to," said Aidan. "You just need to keep safe. I hate to say it, but there's not much we can do right now."

"Of course there's something we can do," said Albus. "There's always something we can do."

"Okay," said Aidan. "So, let's say I can assure you that Wilcox won't catch you for twenty-four hours unless you do something really stupid. I tell you to go out into the world and do something to try and stop him or at least slow him down. What do you do?"

Albus shrugged.

"This is why we're telling you not to worry," said Aidan. "And it's probably why Wilcox isn't worrying one hundred percent about us, either. Everyone knows there's not much we can do right now. Now—" he added, seeing Albus about to protest, "I did say _right now,_ and I said it for a reason. We know more than anyone else knows about Wilcox and his plans, more than anyone else will probably be able to find out until this is over, but we still don't know enough about the Devoctrices to take him on directly. So we've got to learn more about the Devoctrices first."

Albus sighed. "But we're so behind," he said. "Wilcox has been studying them his whole life… By the time we learn enough, he'll have built another Shadow's Engine or something and we'll be way too late."

"We'll have to look where no one's thought to look yet," said Aidan. "That's another one of the reasons I like the idea of the Hourglass Empire so much. It's been such a well-kept secret for so long, and you said the magic is so different there… We might learn a lot."

"What have you learned from the book?" asked Albus, nodding his head towards Aidan's book of magical history.

"Really fascinating things," said Aidan. "To begin with, magic has several varying forms. Like how some spells are Latin-sounding, like _Petrificus Totalus,_ and some are Greek-sounding, like _Kalazkos,_ and some are more African-sounding, Native-American-sounding, Chinese, Japanese, and a lot of others? Latin magic became most popular in Europe, and Europe has led the world in magical development for some time, so that became the main source you see nowadays—but some people think magic could be optimized by figuring out which language has the greater force for any given spell."

"No kidding," said Alec. "Like how _Stupefacto_ was more powerful than _Stupefy?_"

"Exactly like that," said Aidan. "Of course, _Stupefacto_ wasn't in here because it's brand-new to the surface world, but the example they used was _Wingardium Leviosa._ It's ridiculous; it's a mouthful. Even _thinking_ through the words takes a lot of time. But the Indian variant of the same kind of spell, _Vimakkhi, _is a full five syllables shorter and has been proven to create faster flight and higher lifting power than _Wingardium Leviosa._ But we don't use it in English schools, even though we know this very well. Why?"

"Because people are dumb and stick to things that are stupid just because the stupid things were there first?" said Alec, shrugging and looking over at Albus.

Albus shrugged as well, gesturing for Aidan to continue.

"Because of the whole language issue," said Aidan. "See, it's no coincidence that a ton of our English spells, and spells in all of the Romance languages, sound like Latin and Greek words. In fact, it's exactly the opposite of coincidence. It's how language _began._ Someone figured out that speaking aloud the incantation _Arbor_ made a tree appear, and gave all trees the name _Arbor_ in the new language that was being developed. That language would be Latin. Meanwhile, people from different parts of the world were finding different incantations for making a tree appear and thusly were giving different names to their trees. Linguistic regions looked for spells that matched the sorts of sounds that they were already making, and languages evolved further with sounds that matched and flowed with the kinds of sounds they already had from the spells.

"It's even possible that this phenomenon contributed to the Greek empire being overtaken by the Roman empire. In a world dominated mostly by Greek magic, new, more powerful spells were discovered with different sounds, Latin sounds. A lot of study was done into Latin magic, and it was deemed to be better—whether or not that's true is up for debate, it's likely that they average out the same, but you know how humanity has always liked to stir things up in its history. People began to rebuild their entire culture to better reflect the new "superior" language, superior of course because it was thought that the magic was stronger. They even gave new names to their same pantheon of gods. People still held on to the Greek language, especially those who didn't even know why the schism had occurred, but Latin spells were following a self-fulfilling prophecy and took charge of both the magical and Muggle worlds.

"After the main languages developed, they began to branch off with time, especially when Muggle populations were left alone. So there isn't necessarily a different kind of spell language for every actual language. And eventually, there were witches and wizards all over the world working to conceal this important piece of the puzzle from Muggles, to avoid giving them clues to the existence of magic, but they had to seal it away from everyone, including the magical world, to do so. So a lot of it is still unclear—even to the magical world. But this whole language issue does explain one important thing. For the most part, we English-speakers grow up speaking only one language. Speaking other languages is tougher once we've grown and developed under English. It's the same way with spells. We are much faster at picking up English-sounding spells, so if only ten percent of the spells we learned actually used sounds and syllables that we're most accustomed to using, it would be a lot more difficult to learn magical incantations."

"That makes sense, I guess," said Albus. "But then, what does that tell us about the Devoctrices?"

"Well, for one thing, the Devoctrices use no incantations, as far as we know," said Aidan. "I mean, prophesying uses words, but it kind of has to. In general, there are no incantations, not even silent ones. So I think we're looking at something that draws from the same source, but is much closer to the source. It's an entirely different class of action. Magic is like finding loopholes in the rules of existence. The Devoctrices are like changing the rules completely. Does that make sense?"

"A little," said Albus. "What makes them so different in nature?"

"This book," said Aidan, flipping back to the first chapter, "makes brief mention of something that I think may relate to the Devoctrices. According to the book, and a lot of other similar sources, magic is created by tapping into ambient energy, energy which is in a potent but usually inaccessible form. But it takes a mind, a thinking mind, to actually convert the energy into the product that you want. Even magical plants can do it because they have some semblance of a mind."

"You lost me about ten minutes ago, by the way," said Alec.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "The point is, I think the transition from using magic to using the Devoctrices is like this: Instead of channeling magic through your mind, you're basically… channeling your mind through magic. You're basically turning your mental energy into magical energy, inserting your mind into the source of where magic comes from, and you can grasp onto one of twenty-three main things that magic can do, and you can use the magic in its pure, unbridled form. Extraordinarily powerful. But you can imagine the stress, the strain on a human mind, to do something like that."

"The Chaos Contagion," said Albus, nodding. "Turning your mind into magic, accessing the source of all magic… That's gotta have some sort of backlash. But the Catalysts…"

"Allow you to access the sources of magic directly," said Aidan. "The _machine_ projects itself into the Vortex, rather than you having to project your own mind into it."

"Hold up," said Albus. "What's this about a… Vortex?"

"That's just what it's been called in a few texts I've come across," said Aidan, shrugging. "The source of all magic… They call it the Vortex. Apparently physical bodies can't go into the Vortex. Only the mind. It's like a parallel world to ours, like a shadow, from which magic can be drawn. Or so I've heard."

"I've heard that term before," said Albus, wrinkling his nose. "At some important time… I can't remember."

"If it's important, maybe you'll remember it eventually," said Aidan. "I've only run across the term two or three times, I'm just using it in my notes to give a name to the source of magic. I'm not sure if that's what it's usually used to describe."

Albus nodded. "And… anything about the 'Natural S' we've been discussing?"

"Not yet," said Aidan. "I'll tell you right away if I find anything on that."

Albus settled back down into a comfortable position on his cot. Wilcox had said he was searching for a power… The power of the "Natural S—"

But he had gotten cut off. Somehow, Albus sensed this was crucial to dismantling his conspiracy, but if they had only been interrupted a few seconds later, or if he'd asked the question a few seconds sooner…

The first thing that had popped into their minds, of course, had been the Natural Sprites. But of all the legends that had been thrown about the Wizarding World, the stories of the Natural Sprites seemed the most obviously false. And a lot of people agreed with them. There were some cults, some sects that believed in almost anything—but basically everyone agreed that the Natural Sprites were folklore from ancient Wizarding times, to explain the elements, the seasons, the terrains. Some people used to believe that combining all three Natural Sprites would grant unto you the power of Pyron—but then, wouldn't Wilcox be searching for the power of _Pyron,_ not the power of the Natural Sprites?

They had to keep searching for possibilities for what Wilcox wanted, but they had run out of ideas just about as soon as they'd started running.

And Albus wanted to find some other way to help if he could, but his thoughts were so jumbled with everything that had happened… the new information had thrown off everything he'd known… He wished he had a Pensieve with him, so that he could start fresh and organize his mind. Take a trip down memory lane—it would probably be the last pleasant stroll of his life, because everything else was going to be about running away.

"We should start making plans to get down to the Hourglass Empire tomorrow," said Albus. "Wilcox might expect us to head down there right as I'm about to turn seventeen, so maybe we should go a bit early."

"Okay," said Aidan, finally agreeing. "Tomorrow."

"If I'm done with this level," said Alec.

O

There was no longer any doubt that there must have been some sort of protection around Albus, after they'd flown on broom all the way to Egypt without any incident. Knowing that their luck could hardly last, though, they entered the desert in search of the entrance to the Hourglass Empire.

"Great," said Alec. "We got to the Egyptian Desert. Sand everywhere. And you're telling us we should just wander in blindly with you?"

"Yes," said Albus. "Anyone who's looking for the entry will find it, as long as they're in the general vicinity. And almost instantly, too, if I heard the legends right."

"Wasn't there also something about only being able to find it once?" asked Aidan.

"Yes," said Albus, "but only if you find it and turn away without going in. That's when it conceals itself forever from you. Anyone who's been _inside_ the Hourglass Empire, though, and who's returned to the surface, can rediscover the entrance as many times as they need. Like me."

"And like all the Sandbloods," said Aidan. "That makes sense."

"Shit!" yelped Alec, and he descended quickly on his broom behind a sand dune. "What the fuck is _that?!_"

Aidan and Albus exchanged glances and descended next to Alec. They slowly climbed the dune and peered over the top.

In the growing light of the cool desert morning, there stood a human-like figure, barely more than a skeleton. Flesh was regrowing as they watched, but also stripping away and falling off rotten, like a bread crumb trail of shed skin. It was slowly but continuously molting. Even more unsettlingly, it was carrying a wand.

"Oh Merlin," whispered Aidan. "It's a Reflesh."

"A Reflesh?" breathed Albus back. "I haven't heard of that…"

"They were only seen back in the days of ancient Greece," said Aidan. "I think they were used by…"

"By Herpo the Foul?" asked Albus quietly, and Aidan nodded.

"Shit," said Alec. "Is he… here? Is he close?"

"Actually, the fact that this thing is here means that he himself is probably not," said Aidan. "And it might not even be Herpo, considering no one's seen or heard from him in so long. Wilcox may have learned how to make them."

"What _are_ they?" asked Alec.

"These are one of the Darkest of creatures in existence, and possibly the worst of the undead, or even of the living," said Aidan. "Smart like the Fokii, but nearly indestructible like the Inferi. They pretty much take the worst traits from all of the undead Dark creatures and combine them."

"Don't tell me it can use _magic,_" whispered Albus, looking at the wand.

"It can use magic," said Aidan.

Alec hit Aidan on the arm. "He asked you not to tell him!"

"Sorry, but I won't lie to sugarcoat anything," said Aidan. "Yes, it can use magic, and will. In fact, I would highly recommend we don't catch its eye at all. It could send a mental signal to Herpo, or Wilcox, or whoever made him, as soon as it sees us. Like any other wizard could do. Or it could send up sparks. Throw Killing Curses at us. Think of anything a living wizard could do if one spotted us, and that's what this thing could do—then also add the fact that it's faster, stronger, possibly smarter, has much better senses, and is ravenously hungry for human flesh and will eat us alive if it catches us. They're probably all over the Egyptian desert right now to make sure nobody goes into the Hourglass Empire."

"These weren't here last time, I presume?" asked Alec.

"Presumption is correct," said Albus. "That's definitely not good. I'd suspect Wilcox, if they're guarding the Hourglass Empire from us."

"We'd better thank our lucky stars that Alec saw one before one saw _us,_" said Aidan. "Or we'd honestly have been dead before we saw it back."

"This is why I don't like going out in public," mumbled Albus.

"I think the Egyptian desert is hardly _public,_" said Aidan. "In fact, this is why I suggested we were _safer_ in public. Anyway… what say we tread carefully from here on out? We should probably wait for daybreak before we set out, just so we can see everything…"

"How do you make a Reflesh?" asked Alec, shivering. "You don't make them out of actual _people,_ do you?"

"I think you most certainly do," said Aidan.

"So," said Alec, "are they, you know… dead, or alive? Like, can they be turned back into the people they were made from?"

"I don't think anyone's ever gotten the opportunity to try," said Aidan, "but my guess would be _no._"

"So, we should wait until daybreak?" said Albus. "Conceal ourselves back in town for the night and come back when we can see everything that's out there?"

"Yes," said Aidan. "We don't know what sort of spells they're using. How far away they could see us. Our best bet is to give every one of these things as wide a berth as possible. That's probably easier to do in the daytime."

"Agreed on all counts," said Albus. "Even if they couldn't use magic, I'd still want to avoid them."

"Don't fall," recommended Aidan.

"Aidan, we're learning about a super-ancient class of super-powerful spell, which only a handful of people have ever discovered in the history of the world," said Albus. "I think we're past the recommendations like 'Don't fall of your broom.'"

"I don't know," said Alec. "I might still need some of those."

O

"By the way, Albus," said Alec, as they flew closer and closer to the pillar they'd spotted, "in case we get down there and it's overtaken by Wilcox's people like we're fearing, and in case we don't live to see next week… Happy birthday."

"Thanks," muttered Albus as he flexed his hand directly over the pillar. "_Blood._"

A drop of blood fell down; they were too high up to adequately tell whether it had actually struck the pillar, but then the whirlpool of sand formed beneath their feet and they were sucked down below the desert's surface. Alec and Aidan had been warned in advance and didn't struggle as they were pulled down, down, past the coolness and the warmth, past the darkness and the light, and they were deposited gently into the warm red glow of the Hourglass Empire.

Alec and Aidan took their time to gawk and marvel for a moment, before they heard a voice that was familiar to Albus—

"HELLO, UP THERE!"

Hiram Jaze, the official sentry of the Hourglass Empire, bounded up from a hidden ledge and smiled at them. Alec and Aidan backed away slightly and drew their hands close to their wands, but so did Albus.

"Welcome!" said Hiram. "Welcome to the Hourglass Empire! Is this your first time here?"

"No," said Albus, stepping forward.

Hiram blinked. "Well. I'll be. It's not."

Albus kept a level grip on his wand, ready to battle their way back out if necessary. They knew how to leave if they had to.

"Welcome back, Albus Potter," said Hiram. "You _do_ know you're wanted dead or alive back on the surface… yes?"

"Yes," said Albus, his grip unshaken.

"Well!" said Hiram delightedly. "That's what the Hourglass Empire is here for, ain't it? Follow me, young folks!"

And he gestured them towards the path down the side of the canyon.


	3. The Kill Switch

CHAPTER THREE

THE KILL SWITCH

O

The Chief of Police in All the Empire, Phoeba Poticand, was waiting to greet them by the statue of Draxler Cordot. The statue stood, bearing great scars on the arms that were extended out to greet the newcomers to the Empire.

"You don't miss a beat, Chief," laughed Hiram. "I was going to bring them straight to you after Cordot's judgment. Er… should we have to re-judge them?"

"The two boys flanking Albus have not been here before," said Poticand. "But Albus should be judged again as well. In case his intentions have changed."

"And is there anything else you wish of them?"

"Cordot's judgment always speaks enough," said Poticand. "I'd like to have a conversation with them, of course… but if Cordot accepts them into the Empire, then they are perfectly welcome to stay."

"All right," said Hiram, rubbing his hands together and grinning. "I'm sure you boys have nothing to worry about. We're glad that you're here safe with us, and may your enemies on the surface get their just desserts so that you may return to your homes. But… don't go telling anyone that there's a way out of here. That might create some enormous problems."

"We won't," said Albus. "And we'd be happy to talk with you, Chief Poticand. There's a lot to say."

Poticand nodded, but she was staring curiously into his eyes. Albus knew that the trip into the Hourglass Empire removed all traces of disguise—even his colored contact lens. His electric blue eye was out for the world to see; he hoped it wouldn't change anything.

"Monsieur Cordot," said Hiram. "Please pass your judgment now."

With a symphony of creaks and screeches, the metallic statue leaned down to get a better look at them. Cordot's statue placed its hands on either side of the trio, and stared into their eyes.

But Cordot didn't break eye contact with Albus for a very long time. They stared into each other's eyes, and Albus squinted, trying to recall a distant memory. Cordot's face was so incredibly familiar—so familiar that he was sure he'd seen a very familiar face on a living person. If he were to add some years to the face that was standing before him, he was sure that an older Cordot would greatly resemble someone he knew. But he couldn't remember who…

And he knew that Cordot was staring at him for an equally important reason. The statue could sense something in him, which was influencing his decision over whether to let Albus stay. Cordot could sense the Chaos Contagion within Albus.

Cordot lifted his hands for a moment, but then brushed Aidan and Alec aside and placed his hands on either side of Albus. He stared even longer into Albus's eyes, and Albus knew that when his colored contact lens had vanished with the trip into the Hourglass Empire, it was an immediate red flag to anyone who was familiar with the Chaos Contagion—and Draxler Cordot had been one of the very first people to experience it. That meant Cordot knew exactly what it could do to the human mind. Was he willing to let Albus stay, despite the risk of what could happen if the Contagion went untreated?

Cordot lifted his hands, finally, and resumed his open-armed position. He looked down at Albus, and gave a quick but definite nod.

"Well," said Hiram. "I've never seen anyone take that long, but… Perhaps he was confused about your second appearance before him."

"Or that _fascinating_ new look you're pioneering, with the eye," said Poticand. "Perhaps we could talk about that, too."

Alec and Aidan's hands were positioned close to their wands the whole time as they followed Poticand to her office.

O

"So," said Poticand, taking her seat. "I see you've got the eye."

Albus said nothing, opting to wait and see how much information Poticand would reveal from her end before he added what he knew.

"Uzu had it from when she was born," said Poticand. "She found a way to cure it, but it came at great cost and she lost that eye for it. Though she found a way to make that work, with her magical eye. What is _your_ story?"

"One too many spells of a certain kind," said Albus simply. "I think you know what I'm talking about."

"Created one too many Devoxons?" said Poticand. She gestured to Alec and Aidan. "I am assuming they know to some extent what we're discussing."

"We're familiar with a different term for it," said Aidan. "To what exactly are you referring when you say 'Devoxon?'"

"A Devoxon is an object of extreme power, created by a spell of epic proportions," said Poticand.

"Okay," said Aidan, and Albus finally pieced it together fully: The Devoctrix was the spell, but down here they referred to the objects on which the spells had been cast.

"But the only Devoxons you have are Devoxons which you carried with you last time as well," said Poticand. "What happened since then? What Devoxons did you create?"

"I'd rather not share that information," said Albus. "It's highly sensitive."

"I understand," said Poticand, but Albus detected a slight stiffness in her voice. "Though as I am Chief of Police, and as you are presenting a very possible threat…"

"Cordot judged me and determined that I could stay," said Albus.

"Then why is there still need for a Police Chief?" said Poticand. "People can still make mistakes or wander down the wrong path even after Cordot judges them to be able to stay, Albus. And especially considering we've heard from other new visitors that you're wanted dead or alive on the surface… We're treading with caution and I'll hope you'll forgive us for that. In order to determine exactly what freedoms you will be allowed while you're down here, we need to have all available information about _why_ you're down here. We could still imprison you—it's been done before when people don't tell us why Cordot took so long to decide."

Albus tried to calm his thoughts, and took a mental breather. He knew that Poticand wasn't past blatantly lying to get what she wanted out of people—he still remembered when she convinced them that she was Sirius Black's fiancée and Harry's godmother. Was this talk about imprisonment another bluff?

"Have you decided to share?" asked Poticand. "You can live down here in peace and prosperity, Albus, as everyone else does, but you must follow the same rules as everyone else does. And that means you must cooperate with police investigations when public safety is at risk."

Albus nodded. And there was still a reason he might need Poticand on his side…

"I cast a Patronus of remarkable strength," he said. "Far beyond anything I'd seen or done before."

He hoped, at least, there was no way that someone could use the knowledge of an immensely strong Patronus to do evil, considering that the Patronus was a force of good… unless, of course, there was a Miasmus equivalent of the Spirit Guard Devoctrix. Either way, hopefully Poticand wasn't going to be able to abuse that information.

"A Patronus, as a Devoxon," said Poticand, a puzzled look on her face. "That's… strange. I've never heard of that."

"What _have_ you heard of?" said Albus, realizing for the first time that Poticand may not have known as much as she pretended to let on about the Devoctrices. No one really knew very much at all, anyway, except for Desulgon and Wilcox.

"I believe you are the one being questioned," said Poticand. "And I do have more questions. For example… what's this about murdering a teacher at Hogwarts?" She folded her fingers and stared intently at him. "Is that something of which I should be concerned? Cordot's statue may have let you through… but obviously you've attained powers that could be used to sway such events." She gestured to his eye.

"I discovered something no one was meant to discover," said Albus. "Headmaster Wilcox of Hogwarts… Has he been down here?"

"No, but I've heard much about him," said Poticand. "And all of it wonderful. Has something happened to him?"

"He's conspiring to control the world," said Albus bluntly. "He tried to kill me and my friends when I found him out. So we went on the run, and eventually decided our safest bet was to come here."

"We may have to have a longer discussion about this particular point," said Poticand, furrowing her brow and leaning forward into her folded hands. "You're saying Wilcox is… evil."

"I am saying that," said Albus. "He's using Devoxons, and the spells that create them… He knows more about that than anyone on the planet right now, and he's using those secrets to rule from the shadows."

"He's not… the Man in the Shadows?" said Poticand, her eyebrows rising.

"He is," said Albus.

He felt Alec and Aidan giving each other concerned looks behind his back, but he pressed on; this was very important to him.

"Wilcox has a massive following," said Albus. "But if we took the fight to him… if we had an army that we could use to take back the Ministry and tell the world…"

"I know where this is going," said Poticand. "The citizens of the Empire came down here for a peaceful life, and that is what they will lead, for now and for forever. There is no way we are consigning them to join an army, Albus, so let go of that dream right now."

"But there are billions of lives at risk, he wants to kill all of the Muggles—"

"What, pray tell, would I tell everyone?" asked Poticand. "That the people from whom you had to run, they've messed up the world nearly beyond salvation, and now it's your job to suffer and die to rectify the mistakes of people with whom you've not shared the world for centuries, sometimes millennia? Tell me how you think that would go over."

"But some people here still have family up there who could be in danger," said Albus.

"Then they should come here," said Poticand. "Anyone who feels that they are in danger should come down to the Empire to live peacefully."

"He's not going to _let_ the Empire live peacefully!" growled Albus, finally breaking the calm that he had been trying to keep. "Wilcox isn't going to just let you all sit here, especially when a lot of people he wants to kill are probably down here—once he's committed genocide and killed every Muggle on the surface, he's going to come down here and kill all of your Muggles too—possibly everyone, just to be safe! And then I think _that_ conversation is going to be a lot harder to have, when everyone's _dead,_ than the conversation asking people to save billions of lives!"

"The answer, Albus," said Poticand, "is no. Your world got itself into this mess and your world is going to get itself out."

"You're kidding yourself if you don't think you're part of this," said Albus, standing up in his chair. "And if you're going to live in a fantasy where you're immune to the grasp of the most powerful individual ever to threaten the globe, then stay out of my way while we try to find a solution for this."

Poticand stood with him. "Albus—"

"He's got control of the very spell that created the Empire!" shouted Albus. "He's the one who had the idea to send the expedition to _find_ it, probably just so that he could conquer it! And now he knows how to find you, and Aidan and Alec and I are going to work not just to save the surface world, but to save _you,_ and we'd appreciate it if you returned this crucially important favor."

"You're kidding _your_self if you think you can stand up to the person you're describing," said Poticand. "I've seen the power of the Devoxons up close. If everything you're saying is true, then your best bet is to let go of your attachment to the world up there and simply live your life down here. That's why this place was built, anyway. Yes, people can come and go now, but I doubt the exit was ever supposed to be discovered by anyone apart from Cordot. I even tried to destroy the exit for exactly that reason, and I'm sure you remember that."

She waited for a moment, and then continued.

"The people down here came for a perfect world, free from violence and strife," said Poticand. "If you're going to bring those pains and sufferings down here with you, Albus, then I'm going to have to override Cordot's decision, and make you exit the Empire in the _usual_ way people leave us."

"_Everyone_ deserves a world free from violence and strife," said Albus. "My friends and I are going to need any help we can get… so if you ever feel like caring about the people who are dying, whose shattered children will come down to the Empire when their families are slaughtered, then feel free to help us any way you can. But until you do that, just like you think you owe nothing to the world above, _we_ owe nothing to _you,_ and we're leaving."

Alec and Aidan rose as Albus left, and they followed him. Poticand did not try to stop them.

"You worded everything perfectly," said Aidan. "You couldn't have expressed your points better. Some people just aren't reasonable."

"Then I guess it's up to us," said Albus.

Aidan and Alec looked at each other.

"What?" said Albus.

"Nothing," said Aidan. "Whatever we can do down here, we'll try to do it. Just… be aware that, well, we may not be able to do much."

Albus sighed. "We'll do whatever we can."

O

Albus strolled down the street alone, past a group of card players sitting around a table set up in the park, past a group of teenagers laughing and smoking pot, past a campfire where someone was telling a hilarious story, past a drunken man grinning at the moon. Everyone here was so calm and led such a simple life… but his mind was racing with thoughts of the world above. How long would he be down here, trying to help from his safe little bunker? Would he be down here so long that he would start to become like all of these citizens of the Empire—content with their easy, stress-free lives, without a care as to what was happening to everyone up above?

Or were they hiding it just as well as he was? Because walking down the street, he probably just looked like another one of them, someone whose Empire life included a nice nighttime walk. On the outside, he looked the same as all of them, no matter the skin color or hair length or clothes or anything else. No one looking at him could tell what was happening underneath his skull—so who was he to say that the people here _weren't_ caring about what was happening above? Maybe they were just as eaten up by it as he was… but there was much less that they could contribute to the war effort.

He walked out to the entrance of the Empire. A sound like a waterfall alerted him to another arrival; Hiram leapt up to greet them. They wouldn't be down for a while, though… he had enough time for the chat he was planning.

He stepped back directly in front of the statue of Draxler Cordot.

Cordot's statue shifted its head down to look at its visitor, and the corners of its mouth creaked up in what could have been a smile, a sly grin, or even confusion. It was hard to tell with the scars on his face and the fact that he was a metal statue.

Cordot leaned down to look at him again, and it extended one hand. The statue pointed a finger at Albus's left eye.

"It's different, I know," said Albus quietly. "From the last time you saw me. And I know that you know it's the Chaos Contagion."

Cordot nodded.

"I don't know if there's anything you can do about that," said Albus, "but… if you know a way of curing it that doesn't involve turning me into a werewolf… That would be greatly appreciated."

Cordot shook his head.

"I didn't think so," said Albus. "But that's okay. I'll find a way to manage."

He squinted at Cordot, but the light wasn't great.

"I feel like I've seen you before," said Albus. "Not just in statue form. Or maybe… someone who looks like you."

Cordot shrugged, and this time he was definitely smirking.

"You know something I don't know."

He nodded.

"You probably know a lot of things I don't know."

Another nod.

Albus sighed. "But I know a lot more now. A lot more about the world, about the Devoctrices. Is that the name you used? Or did you use Devoxons, or something different?"

Cordot only stared this time. Albus had hoped it might speak to him, but it didn't seem capable of that.

"I know twenty-two of the twenty-three Devoctrices," said Albus. "I've even used a couple, and I've wielded quite a few Devoxons. Swait's knife. The Invisibility Cloak. The Hocus-Focusers."

Cordot nodded again.

"But I need something more," said Albus. "I need to know something that the enemy doesn't. Someone is going to try and use the Devoctrices to end the world."

Cordot leaned back, and his metallic brow furrowed with a crunch. He was entirely focused on Albus now.

"You loved the world," said Albus. "You wanted to protect it at all costs. You found the Pandoran Catalyst and used it to destroy Pyron…"

Cordot shrugged.

"And you created a new world where there wouldn't be so much needless death and pain, but the world up there still needs you," said Albus.

Cordot looked to both sides, as if worried someone was watching. Albus glanced left and right as well, and then continued.

"Is there anything you can give me," said Albus, "any direction, any advice, any items—that could help me save the world? You had the most knowledge of these affairs out of everyone at your time, and possibly even still more than anyone in history, considering all that you've done. You may be the only hope we have for saving everyone."

Cordot leaned down, with remarkable balance; keeping his hands at his sides, he touched his chin to the ground and then opened his mouth wide, very wide. It was just a big enough space for someone to crawl through, and there seemed to be a tunnel. He clearly wanted Albus to enter.

"You want me to… crawl down your throat?" asked Albus.

Cordot nodded.

"Is there something in there that you want me to have?"

Cordot nodded again.

Albus swallowed a lump in his own throat, looked in both directions, and stepped forward, towards the open mouth. He leaned in, avoiding the metallic teeth, and lifted his legs in behind him, and began crawling down the throat.

He had expected it to be wet and soft, like a human mouth, but it was still all dry, firm metal inside the statue. He crawled through the throat, which was also far more open than a human throat, and soon he could see a strange electric-blue glow… In fact, it was almost the same color as his eye.

He crawled a little further into a larger cavity, a deep pit that was probably the equivalent of the stomach. Inside Cordot's gut, a small, glowing, electric-blue gem was lodged in deep in the metal. It was cut like a diamond, with the pointed end buried in deep, so there was only just enough space for Albus's fingers to slide under the gem's head. He began pulling, trying to dislodge it; it was the only thing he could think to do.

It was a strange experience—despite however hard he pulled, even if it was just a gentle yank, the diamond was rising out of the metal at exactly the same slow speed whenever his hands were touching it. Finally, the gem broke free entirely, and he lifted it up to give it a better look.

The gem was remarkably close in color to his eye, and about the size of an egg. It seemed to have a heartbeat, but not the kind of dark heartbeat he'd heard his father describe in reference to Horcruxes. Every heartbeat from the gem felt like a fluttering of angel wings, like a gentle drum beat to a song that filled you with hope. It felt like it was keeping time to phoenix song.

"What are you?" whispered Albus.

Cordot shook his stomach slightly, and Albus remembered where he was; he pocketed the gem in his robes and vowed to find a safe spot for it when he returned to the room he was sharing with Alec and Aidan. He turned and began the crawl back out of Cordot.

When he crawled back out of the mouth, and Cordot lifted himself back up, he glanced over to see Hiram coming around the bend, some thirty seconds away. Albus turned to Cordot and looked him directly in the eyes again.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

Cordot leaned down again, but this time he pressed his finger into the dirt and began scraping out letters. He spelled out three words: _The Kill Switch._

"The Kill Switch," breathed Albus. "What's the Kill Switch?"

Cordot leaned back and resumed his position, and extended his foot to rub out the letters he'd drawn. Albus looked over his shoulder and ducked away behind the nearest building as Hiram approached with the newcomers.

"Monsieur Cordot," said Hiram. "Please pass your judgment now."

Cordot leaned down again, performing his usual duty, and gave the new citizens his approval. They began expressing what sounded like profuse gratitude towards Hiram and the statue, but they were speaking a different language. Hiram, however, seemed to understand them. Albus recalled his "Globoglot," which allowed him to understand and be understood by speakers of any language… That would certainly be a useful object to have with them if they went back up to the surface.

Speaking of useful objects… What on _earth_ was this "Kill Switch?"

He passed the drunken man, the campfire, the potheads, the card players… He was walking down an empty street, and suddenly he felt a tingle down his spine, the feeling of being watched.

He reached for his wand, but it was too late: he heard a voice shout a spell from behind him.

"_Accio Kill Switch!_"

He clasped his hand over his pocket, but the spell didn't work on it—more importantly, who the hell else knew about the Kill Switch? He whirled around to face his attacker, and sent a nonverbal Stunner in her direction.

The woman, dressed in all black with a hood, vaulted his spell and sent a couple of her own; they were locked in heated combat for a few moments, each trying to destabilize the other, before Aidan and Alec rushed onto the scene; the assailant had attacked too close to their residence, and his friends had been woken by the commotion and were coming to his aid.

With Aidan's and Alec's help, they were driving her back, but this woman was an extraordinary duelist and was holding her own against all three of them at their best—

"Poticand!" shouted Albus.

The duel immediately died down.

"What are you doing?" shouted Albus to her. "Why are you trying to take this from me?"

"Why do you even _have_ it?" snapped Poticand, throwing down her hood. "You have no idea how dangerous that is!"

"You're right, I don't," said Albus. "Why don't you tell me?"

Poticand growled. "Albus, this is no time to be flippant about the power you're holding in your pocket right now—"

"If you don't want to help us, why on Earth should we help you?" asked Albus. "Aidan, Alec, come here for a moment…"

Albus took the gem from his pocket; Aidan and Alec both stared at it in appreciation. He handed it out.

"Take it," he said, looking at Alec. "But don't let her know which one of you has it."

Aidan and Alec looked at each other, and then Alec took the gem and pocketed it; they did it behind Albus's robes, and Aidan made similar movements so Poticand wouldn't know which of them was holding the gem.

They both then backed away, and Albus approached Poticand.

"So what does it do?" asked Albus. "If it's as dangerous as you say it is, and you can explain exactly what it is, then we'll have to return it to you if we can't control its power… but until you tell us exactly what it is, I'm going to have to assume that you're lying the way you lied to us about Sirius."

Poticand stared him down, but she bitterly began talking.

"The Kill Switch," said Poticand, "is exactly what it sounds like. Only the Chief of Police knows of its existence, and when the outgoing Chief of Police tells the incoming Chief of Police, that is the only time it is ever discussed."

"So it kills something?" said Albus. "What?"

"The Hourglass Empire," said Poticand.

Albus tried not to show any shock.

"None of us knew where it was," said Poticand. "I had absolutely no idea that Cordot's statue was holding it. Countless generations of police chiefs have searched for it, because of what it could do if it fell into the wrong hands. But we never found it." She took a deep breath. "And Cordot just _gives_ it to _you?_"

"What did you mean, it kills the _Empire?_" asked Albus, still trying to catch up on that point.

"As I said, exactly what it sounds like," said Poticand. "If you were to activate that right now—and I'm not even sure how you would activate that—it would end our world. We don't even know if Cordot made it, because we don't understand why he would have made such a thing. The Kill Switch will kill all of us if you activate it. And considering we don't know how to activate it—you could do it at any time by accident and never even realize it—_that_ is why I am asking you to turn that over to me."

"Cordot gave it to me for a reason," said Albus. "I asked him for help, since you weren't providing any. This is the help he gave to me and I'm keeping it."

"And I have been instructed to obtain it at all costs," said Poticand. "Considering other possible outcomes… your lives are a fairly small cost."

Albus held up a hand as Aidan and Alec extracted their wands.

"Phoeba," said Albus, "how does one become Chief of Police in All the Empire?"

Poticand tilted her head. "You would have to defeat one hundred duelists in a single duel, and then you would have to beat ten of our most elite duelists, including me. After which Cordot would judge you once more."

"And only the Police Chief is supposed to have possession of this artifact," said Albus.

"Yes," said Poticand.

"So if I were to become Police Chief and take your spot," said Albus, "then you would no longer have the authority to take this from me."

Poticand seemed speechless.

"Then I would like to take the challenge," said Albus. "Send your hundred duelists out to face me. I would like to make an attempt to become the new Chief of Police in All the Hourglass Empire."


	4. Memory Lane

CHAPTER FOUR

MEMORY LANE

O

As he expected, Poticand scoffed initially.

"You think that you can take on our hundred duelists," said Poticand, "and then take on ten of our elite—eight of whom have beaten those hundred duelists?"

"I need to try _something,_" said Albus. "Unlike you, I'm not content waiting for the enemy to come to _us._ Fancy fighting a _thousand_ duelists at once?"

"But you also need to have been an active and productive citizen of the Empire for at least a year," said Poticand. "We don't let just anyone walk into the Empire and take control of the police force."

"What makes you a citizen?" said Albus. "Simply entering the Empire and being judged by Cordot to be allowed to stay?"

Poticand nodded.

"But that _did_ happen over a year ago," said Albus. "I was here over a year ago when I first stumbled in here."

"_Active and productive_ citizen, Albus—"

"Who judges that?" asked Albus. "Because I'd like to present the argument that I had an invaluable hand in expunging the Sandbloods from the Hourglass Empire."

Poticand raised an eyebrow, visibly shifting from derisive incredulity to plain disbelief.

"If you insist," said Poticand, trying to smirk but failing. "We can begin at dawn. The rules are simple: no killing, and no permanent injury. No spells cast or potions used before the match—we'll check you for any magical enhancements before we begin. And the first spell of the duel belongs to you, so the duel begins when you cast your first spell. Anything else goes."

"Enjoy your last night as police chief," said Albus.

As he turned and walked with Aidan and Alec back to their residence, he had the sudden thought that in the past twenty-four hours… he had been acting and speaking a lot like Desulgon.

He ran a hand over the eyelid of his changed eye. Was this what happened when you meddled too far with magic? Did you simply start to become like a Desulgon or a Wilcox—mechanically moving forward, emotionlessly manipulating events to get what you needed to happen?

A voice in the back of his head told him that this wasn't the time to worry about that, but he was starting to distrust that voice more and more.

O

Albus looked back at his friends as he stepped into the arena. Aidan's face clearly said "Are you sure about this?" and "Be careful." Alec's face clearly said "Knock some skulls around!" and "They've got nothing on you!"

"First spell of the duel is yours," said Poticand from a seat up high above the stadium, which made her look like a Roman emperor overseeing a colosseum. "They will attack once you've cast your first spell, so choose it wisely. And once you lose, the item belongs to me. Begin whenever you please."

Albus leveled his wand. There was no reason to delay now. He had a plan and he was going to enact it.

_Entrain,_ he thought.

The spell had no visible effect, and there was no indication he'd even cast one. The hundred duelists who stood before him were glancing at each other through the corners of their eyes, waiting for something else to happen.

A low ringing filled his ears, growing higher-pitched, as Albus imagined the earth splitting open, picturing as vividly as possible the eruption of the ground underneath all of his opponents' feet, and then the ringing grew to a roar and they realized he had already cast his spell—

"_End!_" roared Albus as dozens of Stunners and other spells began whipping through the air towards him.

He started throwing on defenses against the spells rushing his way, but most of them were avoided when the ground collapsed under his feet and he descended several yards before landing on the one piece of stable ground left in the arena. Like a Muggle disaster movie, the ground rocked and billowed and exploded under everyone's feet, and the earthquake was throwing duelists into the air like ragdolls. Albus fired off Stunner after Stunner, picking them one-by-one out of the air—

But a few duelists had stabilized their footing, and they were reviving the fallen duelists, quickly dropping Albus's progress from halfway there back down to barely begun—

"They can't do that!" shouted Alec, outraged.

"You heard me explain every rule," said Poticand. "I never said they couldn't revive their partners…"

"But if he can't kill them, then there's no way to keep them down!" protested Aidan.

"I found a way," said Poticand with a shrug. "That's why I'm Chief of Police, dears. To be the Chief of Police, you've got to be able to find ways to subdue without killing. You think the criminals are going to follow your 'rules' and stay down once they're Stunned? Remember that your friend is actually aiming for the biggest responsibility in the Empire. Yes, they can revive each other, and he should have thought of that earlier if he wanted to have any chance. He rushed into this headlong and it's his own fault if he loses."

Albus kept trying to pick them off, but there were far too many of them, and they were reviving their fallen friends as fast as he was felling them. The ground continued to roil, but most of them had finally stabilized their part of the ground—

"_Vitiatia Rennervend!_" cried Albus, and a pulse streamed out of his wand. A bright blue light flashed from every wand in the stadium—he'd used the Vitiation Charm, a spell which acted to disable one specific spell at a time from opponents' repertoires. And he'd chosen to disable Rennervend—the spell being used to bring back their Stunned teammates.

Alec cheered as Albus began his efforts anew, but the hundred duelists had now spread themselves out and were attacking from all directions. Albus raised his wand high, and decided to take a page from Alec's book.

_Agerluscio!_ he thought, and now that he'd taken the time to cast a spell, his defenses were down, and a dozen more Stunners raced towards him, as well as other spells rocking the arena and attacking the very ground he was standing on. _Salimotor!_ he thought next, and he bounced high into the air as his first charm filled the arena with tall grass. _Duro!_

And the grass solidified, trapping ninety-four of the hundred duelists inside.

Albus landed on the solid grass tips, and ducked and weaved and dueled his heart out, with a greater performance than he'd ever mustered in his life; he dove between two duelists, distorting their vision so that they both aimed slightly awry, and their spells struck each other. He cast a spell to turn one of the duelists one hundred and eighty degrees, and his spell struck someone who was emerging from the grass. He iced the arena and froze another duelist's arm to his leg, and Stunned him, immediately sending a consecutive Stunner to strike the duelist standing behind him. Soon he was standing alone on top of the solid grass, and he started running along the top, Stunning duelists as he saw them underneath him. Several times, people broke free, or sent spells flying at him as he ran over their heads, but slow and steady won him the race, as soon every single one of the hundred duelists was Stunned.

"When they write the history books down here," boasted Alec, "remember to include the fact that this was _my_ strategy that won Albus the match!"

"You got this last challenge, Albus," said Aidan. "I've never seen anyone duel better than you did just then!"

Albus looked up; Poticand had disappeared from her lofty perch. She reappeared with nine other duelists, who caused the grass to recede and then shooed away the failed hundred. They spread out in a long line against the edge of the stadium, and raised their wands in practiced formation.

"Nothing else needs to be said," stated Poticand. "Again, begin when you please."

Albus breathed in deeply, and focused himself. He had a strategy for this one, too. Disorient with Pulse Charms first. Spells with multiple jets, and spells that careened everywhere, so they wouldn't know whom he was targeting. Telescoping his spells together so that they wavered wildly and unpredictably. They were incredibly skilled and highly trained duelists—the only thing they might not be prepared for was if he was incredibly unpredictable. And the best way to do that was with spells whose jets or effects were as random as possible.

_Circumpulso! Emitus Frantus Itero! Circumpulso! Duodramocula Itero! Circumpulso!_

If the ten duelists didn't expect a barrage of spells so quickly, they didn't show it. Several of them accurately understood his first spell and used the Ring Shield Charm to accurately protect against the Pulse Charm, but the others were struck off-balance. Albus's frantically whirring spells, followed by a second Pulse Charm, four jets of the Seeing-Double Jinx, and another Pulse Charm, succeeded in disorienting three of the ten, and three subsequent Stunners flew their way. Two of them were defended by the other duelists, but one of them was struck in the nose and keeled over backwards.

One down. Nine to go. But this time, they were now casting spells.

They were setting up defenses and solidifying their ground like professional duelists, and Albus had taken on _one_ duelist like this before, but never nine.

_Entrain!_ he thought, knowing now was not the time to cast doubts. He imagined roaring fires springing up inside of the protective domes they were creating—_End!_

The fires sprang to life—not incredibly powerful, considering that he had given hardly any time for the spells to charge—but they had enough of an effect, and the duelists leapt away from their protective guards—two of them directly into Stunners. Albus quickly cast the Vitiation Charm again to prevent them from reviving, and used the opportunity to Stun one of them who was about to do the reviving.

The six remaining duelists, their defenses abandoned, switched tactics, and all began a ceaseless barrage on him. He jumped out of the way of the first round of spells, then dented a large hole on the ground to hide. But the hole started to close back up on him, and he leapt away, only to find himself leaping into sludge that encased his feet, and he knew that these were duelists who were far beyond just firing Stunners.

He froze and re-melted the sludge to break free, but they had taken advantage of his predicament and now there were twelve Stunners flying at him, but they were fired in all directions so that anywhere he leaped, he would still be struck—

_Protego! Fianto Duri!_

His Shield Charm stopped most of the Stunners—two of them broke through and shattered his Shield Charm, and he had to contort to avoid them, and then Poticand's favorite spell—the giant hand—smashed him face-down into the ground from above, and suddenly the entire dueling arena was covered in mist, but the glowing red hand was still pressing down on him, giving away his position.

"_STUPEFACTO!_" came six strong voices.

In desperation, Albus let loose his last trick—_Funnulus! Corrigoro!_

Albus's last two spells took effect right before one of the Stunners struck him. His first spell caused _all_ six of the Stunners to redirect themselves directly at him. Then, his second spell took the effect of whatever spell hit him, and caused it to happen to the people who cast those spells. So when he caused all six Stunners to hit him in the back, all six casters of those spells suddenly found themselves Stunned as well. The battlefield cleared of its mist, and not one duelist was left standing.

One of the earlier duelists from the hundred-duelist battle ran forward and revived the others, having recovered from Albus's earlier Vitiation Charm. Alec revived Albus from the stands, and Albus worked as hard as he could to stand up, extremely sore from having been hit by so many Stunners. He could barely move, in fact. This would take more than a while to wear off.

"And a tie, of course," said Poticand calmly, "goes to the defenders. Sorry, Albus, but no luck today." She walked up to him slowly. "I'd like the item now, please."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" barked Alec. "You're telling me you think that's a victory on _your_ part, when Albus faces a hundred and ten of the best duelists around and _ties_ them?!"

"Yes, and it's part of the rules," said Poticand, shrugging. "I didn't make them up. If this was a tie, then you and I are evidently evenly matched for the position of Chief—"

"Not if he tied against you _and_ the nine others!" argued Aidan.

"I _beat_ the ten duelists including my predecessor," said Poticand. "As I was saying, if we are evenly matched, then the best course of action for the Empire is not to rearrange the command structure, and to simply keep it as is. Better luck next time—except that you may only take this challenge once, so this was your last time."

"If we're '_evenly matched,_'" hissed Albus through gritted teeth, "then you admit that I'm worthy of the Chiefdom?"

Poticand raised an eyebrow.

"I'm keeping the item, then," said Albus. "Better luck next time."

Poticand raised a hand with her index finger and pinky bent, and suddenly a hundred and nine wands were aiming towards Albus.

"You're giving it here," said Poticand. "Give me the item, Albus. I am still the Chief of Police. That was the deal."

"Where in the law does it say that you are the only one allowed to possess this?" said Albus, searching for some way to stall or some loophole he could exploit.

"Only the Chief of Police is allowed to even know of its existence—"

"You were the one who told us everything we know about it!" exclaimed Albus.

"Then give it here and I will wipe it from your memories," said Poticand.

"As Chief of Police," said Albus, "you have to follow the law. With all these witnesses here watching us, I want you to go find the law that states that you are allowed to take this from me, and show me the law. Where is it written? You can't just steal my property because you want it, because you think I shouldn't have it. Guess what? The _creator_ of the Hourglass Empire thought I should have this. Unless you're telling me you have more authority than him? I thought Cordot's final judgment was the last step of becoming Chief of Police, not _Poticand's_ final judgment."

And as he mentioned Cordot's name, as if he'd summoned the man by talking about him, Cordot's statue boomed into view, his crashing footsteps echoing through the Empire. His gigantic metallic head blotted out the dawning sun as he crashed right through the wall of the stadium and took a stand directly between Albus and Poticand, clenching his hands into fists.

Poticand's eye twitched, and slowly, very slowly, she lowered her hand. The wands all around Albus lowered as well.

"Thank you," mumbled Albus to Cordot, although he really wished Poticand would have been able to see reason on her own.

"Albus Potter?"

The incredulous cry came from one of the townspeople looking into the stadium, wondering what all of the ruckus was about. Albus looked around, and was shocked to see Ephron Rhuavone, former Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, standing in the crowd. The citizens of the Hourglass Empire all started murmuring with each other, fascinated over his appearance there.

"Prof—Professor Rhuavone?" said Albus, blinking.

"Ah, well, not anymore," said Rhuavone. "You can, ah, just call me Ephron. Albus, my boy—I'm so surprised but pleased to see you here!" He stepped forward, with a young woman following closely behind him, clutching his hand.

"Who's _that?_" asked Alec, grinning.

Aidan bumped Alec with his elbow and put a finger to his lips.

"This is Jenna Joyce," said Rhuavone. "She was going to take my job, but then she left for the same reasons I left—it seemed too risky to be Muggle Studies professor at a time like this. She and I decided to come to the Hourglass Empire together, worried about our pro-Muggle leanings. We'd read the lore about this place, both Muggle and magical, and we were able to find it. But none of that is important right now—Albus, I have a message from your father! He heard I was leaving, suspected to where I was going, and gave me a message to give to you if I saw you here!"

Albus looked around. Poticand and most of her elite ten had disappeared, probably not imagining that threatening Albus Potter would look great in the headlines now that the citizens were waking up and investigating the situation.

Rhuavone tossed Albus a letter, sending it flying through the air. Albus caught it with his own wand, and Aidan stepped forward.

"Hold up," he said, scanning the letter with his wand. "I think it's safe…"

"It's from your father," said Rhuavone, wrinkling his brow. "I don't imagine he'd have cursed it."

"Sorry," said Aidan. "At this point, we're just used to assuming that people aren't who they say they are. In both name and personality."

Albus tore open the letter and scanned it quickly.

_Only those who are blood-related to the author of this letter may read the message that follows this paragraph. Please deliver this to Albus Potter if you find him._

_Albus,_

_I sincerely hope this letter reaches you—that you indeed are down in the Empire. It should be the safest place for you. I want you to stay down there until the war is won. Understand?_

_The family is safe. The extended family is safe. Aidan's and Alec's families are as well. Lucas is back in America and Kayla is injured but okay. Don't worry about anyone from back home… yet. Things are direr than ever, but also more hopeful than ever on certain fronts. You've discovered the true identity of our enemy. And we are closing in on a complete cure for the Marionette's Medicine—we are very, very close._

_I can't express enough how much I need you to stay where you are. Disguise yourself and blend in down in the Empire. As long as you keep a low profile, no one should find you there._

"Whoops," muttered Albus.

_Stay safe and hidden and I'll come get you when the war is won. If I don't make it, someone else will. But the important thing to know is that whatever happens, we WILL win this war. The good guys always do._

_-Dad_

By the time Albus looked up from the letter, the police had ushered most of the citizenry away from the arena, and even Ephron and his girlfriend were being escorted back, looking over their shoulders at Albus.

Albus looked around, but Poticand still wasn't returning to demand the kill switch back again.

"What does the kill switch _really_ do?" asked Albus to Cordot's statue, which looked down at him with a kind smile. "It can't _actually_ be the switch that blows up the entire Empire. You wouldn't have made something like that and kept it around… would you have?"

Cordot turned away again, and began stepping thunderously off, back to his usual position at the entrance to the Empire.

"Of course he won't answer," said Alec. "They can never make it easy on us, can they?"

"I can't imagine that's what it really does," said Albus. "Why would something so horrible feel so pleasant in my hands?"

"The end always feels somehow pleasant," said Aidan. "Like slipping into a long-needed nap."

Albus shrugged.

"Have you ever fallen asleep at the end of a very long day?" said Aidan. "It feels like… heaven."

"Well, there's no going to sleep yet," said Albus. "We've made our presence known in the Empire. I'm not sure how much longer we can stay here."

"So what do we do?" asked Alec.

"We figure out if there's anything we can do to help up on the surface," said Albus, crinkling his father's letter in his hand. "Then we go up there and do it."

O

"The Seer, he said, _'Where shadows cross, the d-darkness grows. The p-power of the sun shall burn away the shadows. The hostage, coveted by both, shall be the downfall of both. The third shall seek the third, and three shall fall. When the sun rises on the night of the clashing shadows, both shall b-burn away. When the sun sets on the burning day, the fire shall flicker out.'_ And that's where it, er, ended."

"Who is the hostage?" muttered Albus, watching the events before him take place exactly as they had two years ago. "Or, _what_ is the hostage?"

"That's where it ended?" said Harry, turning around. The meerkat Patronus faded. "That didn't even have a viable reference to any persons or dates."

"The burning day," said Aunt Hermione pensively. "Could that mean a phoenix?"

"But there are no more domesticated phoenixes left in the world," said Harry. "Not after Damien Tashra was killed."

In the background, Albus watched himself twitch. He knew what came next in this memory and he didn't care to stay. This was his mind back when it had been compromised by Herpo the Foul. He concentrated back on the present day and he sailed out of the Pensieve, catching his fall and landing on his feet. He'd been in and out of the Pensieve so often today that he'd become quite skilled at sticking the landing.

Where was Herpo the Foul, anyway? Had Wilcox taken care of him silently? It seemed all too possible, given how obsessed Wilcox was over control of everything and how much of a wild card Herpo could prove to be. But something told Albus that if Herpo had survived for thousands of years and had still come back, then he probably wasn't going to fade away so easily this time. It was never that easy.

Albus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to conjure up another memory that might help. He looked over at Aidan, who was reading, and Alec, who was practicing hitting moving targets with spells. Both of them looked over when they saw he'd returned and was looking at them.

"Anything?" asked Aidan.

"No," said Albus. "Not yet. Nothing helpful. Just more questions."

"Any we could help with?"

"I just watched someone talk about a prophecy again," said Albus. "Talking about 'the hostage' and 'the burning day.'"

"Burning day, like a phoenix?" asked Alec.

"That's the only thing we could think of, too, but it still wasn't very helpful," said Albus. "I don't know how phoenixes relate to this."

"Maybe we need a phoenix," said Alec. "Hey, I'm all for it if we decide to head up to Mount Solaeris and get a phoenix for ourselves."

"With that kind of mindset you won't," said Aidan. "When you scale the Solaerial Summit, you _earn_ a phoenix's _trust;_ you don't 'get' a phoenix as a pet."

"But apparently everyone involved in this 'burning day' is going to end up dead," said Albus. "Something about the downfall of both, and how when the sun rises on the night of clashing shadows, both shall burn away, and when the sun sets on the burning day, the fire shall flicker out."

"Odd," said Aidan, Summoning a quill and notepad. "I'll write it down."

"Add it to the map," suggested Alec.

Aidan nodded. When he'd finished writing his notes, he duplicated the page and sent it flying over to the wall that they'd dedicated to notes. There were pieces of information that they knew, written on paper, plastered in various groupings with different color markings on the corners of each note denoting to what other pieces of information they were connected. Aidan sent it soaring down, marked it purple for prophecy and black for unknown cause or origin. There was a lot of black on the wall.

Albus turned back to the Pensieve. He wondered what memories he hadn't looked at yet, and one bubbled up to the surface of his brain easily: the Mirror of Erised. That incident was still largely unexplained, and he had a feeling Wilcox might have had something to do with that, too—positioning the Mirror of Erised in the castle specifically to attract Albus to his death, maybe… Had he been the one to cast the Devoctrices on the Mirror of Erised, specifically for the purpose of trapping Albus?

Albus pulled the memory of the Mirror of Erised—it was quite pleasant to get that one out of his head—and dropped it into the Pensieve. He leaned in again and landed in the world of the mirror, which was a world he'd never wanted to revisit… but times had changed.

"_A world hidden inside a mirror, an entire world in only one framed pane of shining glass. The Paracosmic Devoctrix. Just like the Hourglass Empire."_

"_A mirror capable of thinking, and talking, and feeling, and wanting. The Anthropous Devoctrix. Just like the Sorting Hat."_

"_The Sorting Hat? But… I thought the Sorting Hat was made by the Juxtatic Devoctrix…"_

"_To summon Gryffindor's Sword, yes. But how can it think, and talk, and feel, and want… moreover, to do so for a thousand years or more?"_

"_How do you know all this?"_

"_Because the one who made the mirror knew this. Don't you want to know all of this, too?"_

A silence, as Albus watched the gears turning in the head of his fifteen-year-old self. This was one of the most terrifying experiences of his life, though it really said something about his life that something like this _wasn't_ the single most terrifying by far. But he knew he could probably learn from this, too.

"_No? Then I guess you won't be needing this list of nineteen known Devoctrices out of the twenty-three total."_

"_This is all of the Devoctrices known to our creator. And you can know them, too."_

Albus narrowed his eyes. Wilcox had known twenty-two when Albus had interrogated him. Had he known nineteen in the beginning of Albus's fifth year? When they said "the Devoctrices known to our creator," were they talking not about the person who made the Mirror of Erised—but the person who made it sentient? Perhaps the Mirror of Erised really had been docile before Wilcox got to it, and cast the Devoctrices on it to lure Albus to his death. Albus needed to watch his interrogation of Wilcox again.

But there was still more to watch here—his past self snatched the list of Devoctrices from the mirror-people, and Albus sprinted to catch up with his younger body as he ran. He peered at the list.

Almost instantly, the list clouded over and was replaced with the mirror's strange language, but he at least caught sight of the first line, which he hadn't been able to fully consciously read when he first experienced this situation.

_NAME: AMIVICAL DEVOCTRIX_

_KNOWN USERS: LILY POTTER, HARRY POTTER_

He'd have to go back sometime to this memory and review that particular moment as many times as it took to read everything visible on the list, but for now he continued with the current memory.

Now he was on the run from the mirror-people, and he burst into several different rooms where other people seemed to have been trapped inside the mirror. There was a little boy named Oleg… That may have been important. Was it the boy or the grandmother who was trapped inside the mirror? Or was it both?

Then, he noticed something that definitely piqued his interest—as the world of the mirror began to crumble, there was a dark aura pulsing beyond the holes in the sky-colored dome. It looked like the surface of a pool of violet-black oil, but it was hanging in the sky. And Albus had seen that exact swirl of color before—in the goop that erupted from Wilcox's mouth, right before Desulgon saved Albus and lost his mind. Albus definitely needed to go back to his interrogation of Wilcox.

"_The Vortex!"_ cried some mirror-people, pointing at the void.

"The Vortex," muttered Albus. "Got to be important… That should go on the wall of notes."

He watched himself escape the mirror, and then kept his close eye on the fake James who stole the list of Devoctrices. As the imposter took the list out of Albus's hands, and saw what it was, Albus saw his face contort in shock and rage for a moment—the exact same face Wilcox made when Albus got the jump on him in the spiral staircase right before the interrogation. This fake James had been Wilcox. Wilcox had definitely been involved in planting the Mirror of Erised and luring Albus to it somehow, otherwise he couldn't have been so prepared. And whether he had been the one who made the mirror so evil, or whether he had only brought it in and let things happen, the result was the same—he knew at least nineteen Devoctrices at that point, and at least twenty-two currently. Regardless of the past, he had to act fast now.

"I'm going to listen to Wilcox's plans again," said Albus.

"Again?" said Aidan. "You've watched him talk about his horrible deeds over and over again. How many times is this, fifteen?"

"Twenty-one," said Albus. "Maybe I'll figure out something special next time. Or on the twenty-third time."

"I feel like that's unhealthy," said Aidan. "It's just going to make you angrier. You need to be in full control of yourself while we're in this situation. One emotionally charged mistake and we're done for."

"I'm in control," said Albus. "I just need to hear more. Or the same stuff again until it makes more sense."

He placed his wand tip on the surface of the Pensieve, bringing the memory of Wilcox's disclosure back to the surface, and he leaned down into it again.

He tumbled back into Wilcox's office. His heart started thumping harder in his chest, as it always did when he looked upon Wilcox's face, even in memory.

"_I simply know that I have to do all it takes to reconstruct the world for the better. Of course there will be sacrifices, yes… but anything it takes is worth the end result. Your impending death, too, will be all for the best."_

"_It's called the Shadow's Engine, but it's a mechanical Catalyst fine-tuned to specifically Catalyze the Darkriver Devoctrix. It's powered by magical blood, and we've been collecting it for some time in order to fuel a single killing strike that will wipe the Earth clean of all non-magical persons."_

"_Eftan's departure from your friend group was none of my doing. He was happy to go along with our plans without any mental work, in fact, just like Pierce and Quinn. He cast the Imperius Curse that led to Sylvester's suicide and he's more than happy to kill his parents, which he will be doing tomorrow night as preparation to ensure he's ready to do anything for our cause."_

Albus grimaced. Whatever had become of that…? He had disappeared before Eftan was scheduled to have to kill his parents to prove himself. He hadn't been able to check on Eftan since entering the Empire, seeing as all communication was cut off from the surface… Had Eftan had to do it?

He refocused on the memory and prayed that it hadn't come to that for Eftan, but also that Eftan was still safe and not discovered. Wilcox was now talking about Dismiusa.

"_Zayn Valon and I combed the forest until we found where her spirit slept. We channeled our energy into her body until she was powerful enough to awaken slightly from her dormant state, enough to create a couple of mulunctapoli. We used these creatures to create the Marionette's Medicine, and allowed them to drain a few wizards in order to transfer their power to Dismiusa and awaken her fully. We subdued her and kept her under the castle, under the effects of Marionette's Medicine, but for some reason or another she eventually began to resist the effects, and broke free of our grip and tried to kill us. Thankfully, you helped destroy her before she revealed too much of why she was attacking us—she wanted to kill me for what I'd done to her, but you thought she was simply referring to Hogwarts teachers in general."_

"_Exo's death would have given me the sympathy of the public and their support for my 'revenge' against those responsible, but of course I would have been pursuing my own interests had I become Minister for Magic. I'm still working towards the position, but I'm being careful about it. I can't let one person suspect me for what I'm doing or all is lost."_

Wilcox went on and on. He talked about he owned the Sandbloods and would wipe them out to be hailed as a hero. Albus began to suspect Wilcox convinced his father to have Albus place the spying device in the Sandblood fortress, so Wilcox could find out more about the Sandbloods so he could control them.

Considering this possibility, he remembered back when they'd discovered that Wilcox's boggart took the form of an angry Harry Potter. How could they have dismissed that so easily?

But hindsight, then again, was 20/20.

"_Lacking magic is a disability that drags the human race down. Destroying all Muggles and Squibs will leave a far stronger population as a whole."_

"_I only know that the Pandoran Catalyst is buried—I've no idea where, or how to surface it. I believe Gallen Ingot found out how to surface it, and did, but seeing as he's most definitely dead, we'll have to either find his sources or learn it ourselves if we want to bring the Pandoran Catalyst back."_

What was Wilcox searching for, then? He was searching for the "Natural S." That was gray on their map—research on the "Natural S" had its own color. The most prevalent use of that term belonged to the "Natural Sprites," but they had done much research on the topic and it seemed incredibly unlikely. Sure, Dismiusa had seemed unlikely, but she was the result of a freak accident of a powerful spell. What were the chances that freak accidents had happened to create gods of the land, sea, and sky at the same time? Nothing, of course, was out of the question, but if there were deities roaming the earth and ruling over the three natural elements, it seemed like someone would have noticed. Unlike Dismiusa, they were supposed to have been around forever.

As he checked back in, Wilcox was talking about how he'd hired Greyback to attack his children, and how he was largely unmoved by the fact that Chrianna, Exo's sister, had died in the process. Albus could recite this speech nearly word for word now, with how many times he'd seen it, but it still infuriated him.

"_You look sickened. Let me explain myself. The human race is advancing as fast as it has ever advanced, magical and Muggle methods alike. Why is this? Because we have adapted better lifestyles. People live longer, and there is less filth and disease in our homes and our streets. The more filth and disease pervade our society, the less able we are to deal with larger problems, because we are too focused on solving the problems of the weak and feeble because of some misplaced belief that they are worth saving, simply for their stock of one human life apiece. Centuries from now, millennia from now, what do you think the world will look like? Will there still be people crammed into alleys between buildings, begging on the streets of space stations, living with nineteen other families in the same underground bunker because all of the surface bunkers are packed even tighter? What kind of life is being lived by these people? Let me pose you a philosophical dilemma: one over which I have spent many a month pondering myself to achieve my current set of ideals. Is it merciful to destroy these lives before all of their pain is experienced?"_

Nothing was worth the deaths of that many people. The world could not be made perfect by wiping out all of the people you didn't like. Maybe _Wilcox's_ perfect world could be made that way, but what gave Wilcox the right to kill seven billion people to make the world that _he_ wanted? He spoke of worldwide benefit but it was clearly only benefitting him and the few bastards sick enough to join him.

Albus waited until the time when Wilcox began to talk about the things that he _really_ didn't want to talk about.

"_I've been—traveling around—the world, searching for—extraordinary—powers."_

"_I was searching for—the—th-the—the power of—of th—Nat—the Natural—Nat-Natural S—"_

The gargoyle jumped aside, and the Albus in his memory turned around, taking his eyes off of Wilcox, which was a terrible decision. Albus cringed as he did every time when the glossy sludge billowed from Wilcox's mouth. It was the Chaos Contagion, and it was the exact same color as the abyss that the mirror-people had called "The Vortex." Albus didn't know how the sludge was controlled; presumably, having the Chaos Contagion himself, he could do it if he wanted… But he really, really did not want to.

A tendril from the chaotic cloud soared towards Albus like a frog's tongue. Albus watched as he was lifted helplessly into the air. He watched through one squinting eye; it was still hard to look at the moment where Desulgon lost his mind, but he knew he had to in case that moment contained some clue.

Something clouded over behind Desulgon's eyes as he fell to the ground, writhing and laughing. Switching back and forth between his normal voice and a voice that sounded like a Seer's prophecy, he yelled the words that Albus longed to understand the most:

"_See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil! All three must—_touch the soul, that's it—_but gladly shall they take upon the duty or not at all—_before the twenty-third cycle of the twenty-three days—_lest the disease take hold for all time, only to be removed in the heir by erasing the inheritance and destroying the evidence!_ I got it! I got it, I got it! Ha-ha-ha!"

He Disapparated again.

But this time, Albus's intense focus and keen Seeker eyes finally detected something he'd never seen before: a lightning-quick flash from Desulgon's wand right before he vanished.

"What did you just do?" he whispered.

When he got back out of the Pensieve, he was going to have to go back in and investigate that half-second many more times. There was definitely something deliberate about the spell that Desulgon had cast. Something inside him had shown through the madness for a moment, and he'd made a point to cast that spell before leaving.

Albus was lost in thought so long that he watched the memory longer than usual. The Albus inside the memory charged away, tricked Wilcox into Polyjuicing himself into blind Parker Pullman by using his Toupeepop, darted off again, and ran into Zayn Valon—

And… killed him with a Shatterbolt.

Suddenly, the Pensieve shivered, and new memories began bubbling up around him, memories that he hadn't deposited into the Pensieve. The Lunar Massacre. The escape from the Sandblood headquarters. The confrontation with Siobor.

Without intending, Albus burst back out of the Pensieve and tumbled onto the floor.

"Albus, are you all right?" yelped Aidan. "I told you not to—"

Aidan's voice cut out as Albus began twitching on the floor, writhing in pain and madness. Every person whose death he had caused, directly or indirectly, began rushing back to Albus—Sahil Vivekkamal. Damien Tashra. Valon. All of those werewolves…

Thinking about them was too horrifically painful, and he tried to shove them out of his mind, they were killing him, to think about their deaths. And he felt something else creeping into his mind—a dark force, a presence that felt like the manifestation of that Vortex, the sludge, the miasma, creeping into his consciousness and threatening to overwhelm him immediately—

"Albus!" came Alec's shout from somewhere incredibly far away. "What's going on? Say something! Tell us how we can help you, at least tell us you can hear—AUGH!"

Like he was looking from the nearest star through the tiny lens of a telescope, he saw someone burst into the room—this was not Poticand attacking them again, but it was someone who had been waiting for the right time, and now that Albus was incapacitated, this new assassin was striking. The duel between Aidan and Alec and the invader was brief and incredibly one-sided; they were blasted against the wall, and the wand was turned on Albus.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" came a shout from several universes away, and Albus watched the Killing Curse sail towards him with nothing in the way—

"No!" he cried, suddenly finding his voice.

He was still watching his body from afar, and he saw his body open its mouth—but instead of the desperate shout, violet-black sludge spilled from his open mouth rather than words. The Killing Curse struck the barrier and deflected off into the wall behind Albus's body, and then the goop raced towards the intruder, reaching out like hands, intending to ensnare him and leave Albus's body to infect this new person—

The newcomer leapt out of the way, clearly now switching his focus from ending Albus's life to preserving his own. He fled through the open door, out of Albus's sight, and the glossy slime pulsed above Albus's head, eager for a new victim, as Aidan lifted himself up from the floor and called to his friend.

"Albus, this has to be the Chaos Contagion!" cried Aidan. "You have to resist it—this is what drove Desulgon insane, and probably so many others! What memories did you see that triggered this? Was this triggered by something? You have to undo it!"

It was triggered by watching the deaths he'd caused…

"Keep your human mind!" pleaded Aidan. "Think about something human… Love! Remorse, Albus, think about remorse! The insanity, the chaos is trying to take your mind—bring it back with everything human about you!"

Albus had been pushing the memory of those deaths out of his head. But that was leaving room for the chaos to enter… He closed his eyes, blocking out all else from his attention, and focused on the pain he had felt over causing all the deaths and destruction that had occurred in his influence. The pain he felt was worse than the Cruciatus Curse, and he wanted to die or lose his mind and end it—but he couldn't die. He couldn't lose his mind. The war wasn't won yet. Maybe after his work was done, he could slip into death's embrace… allow the warmth of chaos to expunge his thoughts along with the pain that he wanted to escape… But not yet.

And he slid slowly back into his mind.

He opened his eyes, not sure what he was expecting to see—darkness, the glossy black goo of the Chaos Contagion—but he only saw his very relieved friends.

"Please don't do that again," said Alec.

"We were attacked?" mumbled Albus numbly, staggering to his feet.

"Whoa there, sit down if you need to," said Aidan.

"I can't sit down," said Albus. "Someone else attacked us. Wilcox must have sent or stationed someone down here, and that person is looking for us and knows where we are. We have to go."

"Go?" said Aidan. "Albus, we're so much less safe up there, and you need to rest and explain to us exactly what—"

"How long before our attacker gets back up to the surface, alerts Wilcox we're down here, and sends hundreds more down here to trap us?" said Albus. "We are backed into a corner down here. If they guard the exit to the Empire we'll be stuck here forever in the best case scenario. We have to go right now."

"Should we bring the map?" asked Alec, jabbing a thumb at the wall. "We can shrink it down and bring it with us—"

"Yes!" blurted Albus. "And the Pensieve—I have to keep looking at my memory of what Professor Desulgon did right before he disappeared—he did something, his wand flashed, he cast some spell—can you two bring the Pensieve with you so I can keep jumping in and out while we're running to the exit of the Empire?"

Aidan nodded; they had gone over how to exit the Empire many times, just in case this exact situation occurred.

"Good," said Albus. "Let's get moving. Pack up everything we need and let's go! We need to get out before anyone else gets in!"

Once they were prepared to leave, Albus nodded to Aidan and Alec and dove back into the Pensieve, to his most recent memory, back in a few seconds before the end. He watched the flash from Professor Desulgon's wand again, but couldn't connect it to what had happened. Several more times he leapt back out of the Pensieve and jumped back in again, as his friends carried the Pensieve with them closer and closer to the exit—and on what felt like the hundredth time, he finally saw what was going on.

He'd turned his attention to the surroundings, being unable to glean the meaning just from watching the wand, and as Professor Desulgon vanished, he saw a matching flash from the wall. A message briefly appeared, carved into the stone:

_The Fokii know._

And then, almost as quickly, the message vanished. It was almost as if Professor Desulgon had retained just enough of his mind to know that there was something important he needed to communicate to Albus, and that Albus would probably be watching this memory more than Wilcox, or would be able to find meaning in the statement better than their adversary.

"_The Fokii know,_" whispered Albus, soaring back out of the Pensieve again. "What exactly _do_ the Fokii know…?"

As he landed and stayed this time, running alongside them, Aidan looked back. "Find something now?"

"A message that Professor Desulgon left for me," said Albus. "There was no way I could have seen it in the moment… I think he may have been expecting me to look through my memories."

"What?!" yelped Alec, turning his head and nearly running into a wall; they were down in the tunnels below the Empire, approaching the exit. "That's _big_ news! What did the message say?!"

Albus sighed. "Another mystery, I'm afraid. It said, 'The Fokii know.'"

There was silence as they ran for a while.

"The Fokii know what?" said Alec.

"I think that would be the aforementioned mystery," mused Aidan. "Interesting… That's definitely something to go on the map."

"The Fokii must know something important," said Albus. "What could they possibly know, though?"

"They've been hanging around Hogwarts," said Aidan. "Maybe there's something important they've seen Wilcox doing. Maybe he's doing something in the forest…"

"He attacked Dismiusa in the forest," said Albus. "Something to do with that, maybe? The Fokii were really huge in the Dismiusa ordeal. Maybe they know something about that."

"How the hell are we supposed to find out?" asked Alec. "Go up and ask them? Hope they don't eat us?"

"We use logic," said Aidan. "Let's think about this. This is something important that the Fokii know. Probably connected to Dismiusa."

He waved his wand, and all of the note sheets marked with green flew out of his backpack. The strings were all tangled together, but the strings extended to allow all of the green notes to stretch out. The green denoted notes having to do with Dismiusa.

"And it's something we don't know," continued Aidan, "because why would he have left that note about the Fokii knowing something, if it was something we already knew? That wouldn't have gotten us anywhere."

The notes marked with both black and green drifted forward even farther than the notes with just green.

"And probably connected to Wilcox and the whole Man in the Shadows thing, too," said Aidan. "Probably visibly connected, or we wouldn't have much of a chance of making the connection."

And one note sheet drifted forward the most, marked with yellow—marked with all three colors, for "Dismiusa," "unknown cause or origin," and "Wilcox." The note's message gleamed out at them like a beacon, their purpose in the fight finally unfolding.

_How did Dismiusa break free of Wilcox's control if she was under the Marionette's Medicine?_

Albus gasped as the words from his most-watched memory drifted back through his head:

"_We subdued her and kept her under the castle, under the effects of Marionette's Medicine, but for some reason or another she eventually began to resist the effects, and broke free of our grip and tried to kill us."_

"Holy Merlin," he breathed. "The Fokii know the cure for the Marionette's Medicine."


	5. The Desert Island

CHAPTER FIVE

THE DESERT ISLAND

O

The boys skidded to a stop in front of the door leading to the escape mechanism for the Hourglass Empire. Albus opened it—the eye-scanning lock hadn't been replaced, given that the Sandbloods had been run out of this base by Poticand and the police after Albus had left last time.

"Good thing we brought cats," said Alec, nodding to Albus.

Albus reached into his bag and pulled out the kittens they'd picked up from a shelter in the Empire; they began mewling and pawing at his hand.

"Sorry," he whispered to them as he handed one to Alec and one to Aidan. "Must have been a bumpy ride in there…"

"And remember, we're all going to end up in different places around the desert, like Albus said—right?" asked Aidan.

"Yeah," said Albus. "And we agreed to meet up—"

"—at the Flyby Broom Shop in the most touristy area of Cairo," said Alec.

"And we should all arrive exactly twenty-four hours from the moment we exit the Empire, or else whoever does make it there will have to leave you behind when we head out from there," said Aidan. "Because we'll have to otherwise assume you were found, by someone who's looking for us."

"Use the Purple People-leaders," said Alec. "And watch out for the Refleshes."

Albus cringed. "Right. That'll make leaving the desert significantly more difficult."

"Less difficult than if we didn't know about them," said Aidan. "At least we know they're out there."

"Lovely," said Alec. "Let's go find out what other horrors are waiting out there for us, then. I'm sure it'll make us all feel so much better."

Alec stepped onto the platform, and he coaxed his kitten up the invisible staircase. The kitten stepped up nervously, turned back towards Alec and mewled. He nodded encouragingly, and it climbed up the staircase with a frightened but determined look on its adorable little face.

"Leaving so soon?"

Albus turned to the doorway. Poticand was looking at them with folded arms.

"Yes," said Albus.

"May I ask why?"

"No," said Alec. He gestured for his kitten to stop, and it paused right before it reached the ceiling of the machine, and mewled again in apprehension.

"And you're taking the Kill Switch with you," asked Poticand.

Albus paused, mentally overriding the instinct that was about to make his hand drift towards the pocket in which he was keeping the Kill Switch.

"No," he lied quickly. "We don't exactly have much use for it up there. I left it in an unremarkable package in our room for you. I assumed you'd search the place after we left."

"Correct," said Poticand. "I _did_ search the place. So please don't lie to me."

Albus was beginning to understand how her mind worked, though, and he knew that Poticand may have been lying about searching their place. There hadn't been enough time for her to actually have done a thorough search and then catch up with them. She might not actually have known whether or not he had it—she was probably lying due to the possibility that he still had it. If he still had it, she could pretend she knew it wasn't in his room… and even if Albus had been telling the truth, she would have lost nothing by making that assumption just in case. She was crafty, but he was picking up on her tricks.

"Either _you're_ lying about searching our room, or you're completely blind," said Albus, "because it's in there. Now step aside or I'll have to duel you aside. Remember, I tied against you even when you had nine incredible duelists fighting next to you."

"You showed no sign that you could have legitimately beaten us," said Poticand. "You only technically tied by letting us hit you. Letting the enemy strike you down isn't exactly the kind of requisite skill for a police chief. Please don't let that go to your head."

"We're leaving," said Albus. "Aren't you happy that you don't have to deal with us anymore?"

"On the contrary," said Poticand. "I'm tasked with the protection of all of my citizens. No matter how annoying and meddlesome they may be. And so I must find myself imploring you not to go, because I hear it's getting worse and worse up there, especially for you. And as much of a pain in my side as you've been… you're a good person, and you're barely of age. We don't want you getting killed."

Albus tried as hard as he could to read her expression, and eventually gave up.

"See, I'd like to believe you," he said. "I'd really, really like to believe that you care that much about us, so much that you swallow your pride like this. But there's also the strong possibility that you're only saying this to keep us here until you're absolutely sure that the Kill Switch is in your possession, just in case I'm lying and I still have it."

Poticand said nothing in response.

"That's the problem when every other sentence out of your mouth is a lie," said Albus. "Because when you finally want to be genuine, no one will believe you."

Poticand's eyelids lowered halfway down. But she wasn't glaring. It was like she was extremely tired.

"So what's your decision?" said Albus. "Even going by what you said before… if you're really concerned about us as citizens of the Empire… what exactly does protecting your citizens _mean?_ Why do they come down to the Empire? Answer: to live their lives in peace, in freedom. If you're telling us we can't do what we want, you're violating the purpose of the Empire: to let everyone live in peace the way they want to live. And we want to live out there. We want to leave."

"Something you come to realize as a leader," said Poticand, "is that people don't always know what's best for themselves."

"Sometimes it's not about what's best for _ourselves,_" said Albus. "That's something you come to realize as a _good_ leader."

Poticand was silent again.

"I wish you had died in Uzu's place," said Albus. "She knew the benefits of trusting other people. She even trusted you, and look where that got her. Dead. At least she conferred the benefits of her sacrifice to protect James long enough for him to leave. And you wouldn't have gotten out alive without her trust, either."

"I know," said Poticand.

"So, are you going to honor her sacrifice?" said Albus. "Because she died helping me try to leave the Empire, knowing that I was important in the war to come. Or are you going to let her die in vain?"

"Fine," said Poticand. "Go. But the Kill Switch…"

"It's in our room," insisted Albus. "Believe it or not, I still trust you a little bit, too. At least about the running of the Empire. You seem to make all your decisions with that in mind. If you must, then leave the bigger picture to me."

"And believe it or not, I admire you, Albus Potter," said Poticand. "It's not every day someone gets that close in the duels for Chiefdom. I wish you the best of luck up there."

"So you're not going to try and stop us?" said Albus. "If I turn my back, you're not going to try to Stun me?"

"I'll let you Stun _me,_ in fact," said Poticand, holding her hands up. "I know you have a hard time trusting me, so if that's what's necessary… do that. And I'll wake up when you leave the Empire." She paused. "Cordot trusts you. Uzu trusted you I suppose… I suppose I should as well."

"You've had too many opportunities to trust me that you haven't just let slip by," said Albus, "you've crushed them into the ground. You're going to need to leave every wand you own on the ground, let us search you to make sure you don't have anything else to hurt us with, and _then_ we can bring you outside the room and Stun you and close the door. I hope that helps you understand exactly _how_ little we trust you and I hope the realization can perhaps change your behavior in the future, if we ever need to come back. We're prepared to die up there. I wish you'd at least be prepared to live virtuously."

Alec and Aidan exchanged glances, and Albus felt himself talking like IMW again.

"I will do that," said Poticand softly. "But I must express one more time, before you do, how desperately I need you to be telling the truth that the Kill Switch is in your room ready for me to pick up. You say you're prepared to die up there? Imagine the enemy getting a hold of the Kill Switch when they kill you. Imagine them coming down here and taking revenge on everyone for wiping out their base of operations that was here. And you'll understand why I'm ready to do anything to protect my people—just the way you're ready to do anything to help yours."

"The Kill Switch is there," lied Albus, knowing he was being a complete hypocrite about what he'd just said about living virtuously. But Poticand had earned it—she deserved to be lied to if she was lying so often herself.

"Thank you," said Poticand. Her mouth twisted up for a moment, as if she was sensing the deceit—but it would make sense if she knew he was being a liar. Takes one to know one. But then she continued: "And just so you know… I wish just as bitterly that I had died in Uzu's place."

"I wish Uzu could have come with us," said Aidan—Albus had explained who Uzu was to his friends, and they knew to whom Albus and Poticand had been referring. "I feel she'd have had a lot to tell us, given that she dabbled in the subject first-hand."

"I don't know if she'd have come with you," said Poticand with a slight smirk. "Remember how she came to escape from her insane great-great-grandmother? We don't know any details specifically, but last we heard in rumors from the surface… her insane great-great-grandmother is still out there."

Albus furrowed his brow, and Aidan quickly extracted a quill and scribbled a new note to mark with black on their map.

Suddenly, Poticand began stripping, and undressed completely down to her underwear, casting aside her protective armor and robes full of fighting gear. She turned her back with her hands up.

For a moment, Albus considered taking this as enough of a sign that she could be trusted, and almost didn't Stun her as a lesson in trust. But he knew that trusting wasn't always the best option, as evidenced by all the people who had betrayed him and his family over the years.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" he stated. "_Stupefy!_"

Both spells struck Poticand, and she toppled onto the ground; he sent a Cushioning Charm her way in pity before casting a spell which slid her out the door. He slammed the door behind her and kept his wand trained on the door anyway.

"We'll talk at the Flyby," said Aidan. "Alec, you can go. I'll go next, and then Albus, seeing as you're the one who cast the spells on Poticand and she'll wake up right when you leave… are you okay going last?"

"Of course I am," said Albus. "Apparently, the escape mechanism teleports you randomly in the desert, but it does intentionally place you somewhere where you won't be in immediate danger… if the lore, again, is to be believed."

"Then I guess we'll head out," said Alec, saluting. "You can have some quality time alone with Poticand if there's anything else you'd like to say to her before we go."

He nodded to his kitten, and it pressed its paws against the ceiling excitedly. Alec began to dissolve instantly.

Aidan watched the process in fascination for a moment, and then nudged Albus. "Hey," he said. "Just so you know… I know we're in a different situation than we've ever been before… but you're still sounding different than your normal self. Do you… Are you feeling in any way that the Chaos Contagion is still affecting your mind at all?"

"Well, it is, but not in the way you're probably asking," said Albus. "If you mean it's affecting my mind in the sense that I know it's there, and I know I've got limited time to help us win the war before I possibly go insane, and it's affecting my mindset as a direct result because I know I have to waste no time and get to the point right away for everything I do… then yeah, I have to admit it is."

Aidan nodded, though Albus detected some slight worry in his expression. Regardless, he stepped forward to the escape mechanism, and his kitten followed.

"Just… let us know if you need anything from us," said Aidan seriously, "and we'll make sure you get whatever you need to stay healthy. Don't be afraid to ask, because we're not afraid to give."

"I understand," said Albus. "Thanks."

Aidan nodded as his kitten pressed its paws on the ceiling, and Aidan disappeared as well.

Albus felt in his pocket for the Kill Switch, and took it out to look at it; assured that it was still there, he stepped into the escape mechanism himself.

He took one last look at Poticand's armor lying on the ground, and for a second he even considered taking it with him. But he wouldn't know how to control it like she did, throwing her armored plates around and using them to reflect and split spells. That probably required training he wouldn't master until he was her age.

His kitten pressed its paws against the ceiling of the machine, and he watched himself dissolve into sand, preparing himself for what could lie on the surface. One other strong consideration was that, in just a few days, he would no longer be underage, and Wilcox would certainly be coming for him. They had to do whatever they had to do with the Fokii and then get somewhere safe as soon as possible—and the Hourglass Empire might be out of the question from now on, because if Wilcox knew he wasn't in the surface world, then his first guess as to Albus's location would probably be the Empire. He hadn't thought of that before and the consideration was giving him considerable anxiety now.

The way he felt fear had changed; it didn't paralyze him or affect his movement and judgment. It now merely felt like a cold reminder in his brain. He hoped this wasn't the beginning of being drained of emotion, but maybe it was simply the beginning of a newfound determination.

Albus rose through an emptiness, until he saw the world above returning to his vision, one sand-sized fleck at a time. He gently touched ground, and his shoes were filled with sand almost immediately.

He checked the time—it was about half past four in the afternoon. He had to make his way, unseen, to the Flyby Broom Shop in Cairo. But nothing he carried with him was going to make transport easy.

He pulled out a small, vibrantly-purple compass—the Purple People-leader, which they'd picked up at a shop on the way to the Hourglass Empire for this very purpose. The People-leader pointed to the nearest substantially large civilization; they could use it to find people again when they were lost. From there, Albus could find his bearings for his trip to Cairo. And he had to make it before half past four tomorrow afternoon.

The People-leader spun around for a moment, disoriented by the trip, but focused its needle in a clear direction. Albus pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, hoped that Aidan and Alec would be able to make the journey without one, and set off in the direction of the needle. He turned the compass over—on the other side of the compass was a watch, but with an extra hand for "days." and the hands spun around for a moment before the day hand settled on zero, the hour hand settled on the 17 and the minute hand on 21.

"Seventeen hours and twenty-one minutes of walking to go," sighed Albus. But it was better than it could have been, he supposed. If the day hand had been anywhere other than zero, that would have been something to worry about.

He temporarily solidified the ground as he walked, and his steps got slightly longer and quicker when he no longer had to trudge through the sand. After a few seconds of his increased pace, he hour hand dropped to fifteen and the minute hand rose to thirty-eight. It was going to be a long, long journey, but the only thing that could make it faster was taking it.

O

_A new Chaos Contagion has arisen._

"Where?" asked Wilcox.

_In Egypt. Among the sands._

"Albus Potter has crawled out of the Hourglass Empire," mused Wilcox. "So he _was_ there."

_You found him there, and it is why he left._

"Where is he going?"

_He is protected._

"That's not what I asked," said Wilcox. "Where is his destination now that he has reached the surface?"

_He is protected from your mind._

"For how long?"

_Until his seventeenth birthday._

"In three days," said Wilcox. "Well, that shouldn't give him too much time to wander around. And I may even catch him the old-fashioned way before that. If you cannot tell me where he is exactly—where should I start looking?"

His head was wracked with strange vibrations, the likes of which could not be defined with his original five senses, and he shook the feeling away in irritation. Until he learned to interpret the vibrations from the future, he couldn't utilize the Precognary Devoctrix to its full potential. He'd have to rely on keeping watch over the Seers.

He drifted backwards slowly, back towards the void.

"Has he brought anything with him from the Empire?" asked Wilcox. "Anything I should know about?"

_Nothing you can know about._

"I'll ask again in three days, then," said Wilcox, passing through the void and shutting the door of the Room of Requirement behind him.

O

About fifteen hours later, the hands had almost all converged on zero. The second hand had now appeared and was ticking down from 60.

"Oh, thank God," breathed Albus. He was feeling sore in every muscle he could think of; he had picked up the pace a few times, worried about not making it to Cairo in time, and despite having boosted his stamina with a few spells he knew, he was absolutely ready to drop. The sun had started rising two and a half hours ago and it was baking his left arm, and the Cloak was like a greenhouse.

Forty-five seconds later, he still didn't see anything.

"Okay," muttered Albus, getting more and more anxious with every step and releasing his spell that was solidifying the sand. "Any time now…"

He ran a few steps, and the counter clicked down to zero; his foot stomped on something that was already solid, and there was a hollow echo under his feet.

He paused for a moment, and stepped again. Another reverberation.

He'd stumbled upon some kind of underground community. But was it friendly or dangerous? Probably magical, given its location—it didn't look like a place any Muggle would be able to find given their own devices. And there had to be a substantial number of people there, in order for it to be noticed by his Purple—

Suddenly the trapdoor underneath him swung open, and he was launched off of it; the Cloak landed under him on the sand as someone climbed up a ladder and peered out.

They locked eyes for a moment as Albus found himself panicking again.

"Sorry," he said automatically, looking away.

"No, that was probably my fault," said the dark-skinned woman in a thick accent. "What's your name, stranger?"

"Kyle Hansen," said Albus, drawing on the name from his previous trip to Egypt.

"Nice to meet you, Kyle, I'm Rhondi," she said, batting her eyelashes. She had very heavy make-up on; looking closely, she looked like a forty-year-old pretending to be twenty, but she was mostly pulling it off if that was the case. "Have you been topside long? You haven't seen a young girl who looks like me traipsing around up there, have you? I'm looking for my Chelzie. She's not usually gone overnight."

"No, sorry," said Albus.

"I'm worried about her," said Rhondi. She seemed like one of those people with an easy smile and a naturally cheery disposition, but her face fell as she spoke. "She's not great at defending herself, to be honest… and lately, people who leave at night haven't been returning."

_The Refleshes,_ thought Albus guiltily, knowing they were probably there for him.

"You look a little familiar," said Rhondi. "But I don't know any Hansens. Are you from the Island or are you just visiting?"

Albus's brain raced to catch up. The People-leader had led him to the nearest substantially large civilization. He'd assumed it would be an Egyptian town or something, but it seemed he'd actually crossed Egypt's south border into Sudan. The "Island" to which Rhondi was referring had to be Sudan's small underground wizarding community, the Desert Island, and the hole out of which her head was sticking had to be one of the entrances there.

"I can look for her," said Albus, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"Really?!" said Rhondi, looking like someone had just told her

"Do you have a broom I could borrow?"

Rhondi's face lit up. "Oh, of course," she said. "Come on down! My house is quite close to the northern entrance here."

She descended the ladder she was holding onto, and Albus climbed down, feeling guilty again. He wasn't actually planning on finding Rhondi's daughter, or whoever "Chelzie" was… He just needed a broom to get to Cairo.

The Desert Island wasn't the most magnificent of landmarks; Albus knew it had originated as more of a temporary stop for wizards en route to other fully magical communities when they didn't want to deal with the tiptoeing required for being around Muggles. It had been exclusively hotels, shops, and bars, until a few families had settled down, deciding that their halfway point was more appealing than their destination. There wasn't a sun, being below the ground, and the artificial lighting was dim and uninviting. But it was populated enough for his People-leader to point him here, and it was a magical hub; it was the most he could have hoped for.

As he walked stiffly towards Rhondi's home, everything he saw gave him anxiety. A little boy sped by on a hovering bicycle without wheels; he turned his head, and Albus's heart stopped. A group of girls walked by, chattering loudly; their conversation lulled for a moment as they passed and Albus jumped a mile. A man spoke quietly into a cellphone-like device while he stood in a shadowy corner, and Albus had to remind himself to restart his breathing.

_We stand out way more when you look nervous about something._

Aidan's words echoed back to him, and he tried to make himself look as calm as he could. Besides, it wouldn't just attract suspicion from the people he was worried would be suspicious; Rhondi might suspect his true motive behind the request for a broom.

"Chelzie looks like me," said Rhondi, turning around to look at him. "She is having glasses and is probably with her friend Uhimba, who is always wearing… What is the English word? Mm… I forget. Clothes that have… stripes… in… both directions."

"Plaid," said Albus through a very dry mouth.

"I am very plaid you could help me as well," said Rhondi, smiling.

Albus nodded kindly, and as Rhondi turned back around, tried to keep his composure. He looked around. The boy on the bicycle was gone, the girls had passed almost out of sight, but the man on the cellphone was looking his way.

He turned his head quickly away from the man, immediately regretting how quickly he had turned it. Then he was finally able to breathe a sigh of genuine relief, as they adjusted their angle directly towards a small house.

There weren't driveways or streets, so there wasn't really a rhyme or reason at all for the positions of the houses. They were all scattered randomly around the high-ceilinged, sandy-floored cavern that was the Desert Island, at strange angles to each other, so that it didn't even look like a neighborhood; more like a child's abandoned playroom. Hotels loomed in the distance, near a large marketplace, a scattering of tents, canopies, and hovering awnings, where people were selling homemade goods. This actually would have been a good place to hide if he wasn't so clearly out-of-place due to the shade of his skin. He wondered if there were places like this in Europe or America.

"Here is my house," said Rhondi. "We have high security; you must wait out here, but I will get my broom and bring it out here to you."

Albus nodded, but as she walked into the house and closed the door, he was left alone in a foreign city sticking out like a sore thumb. He debated pulling out the Invisibility Cloak, but worried about Rhondi opening the door and not seeing him.

She came back out quickly with the broom, but the joyous look on her face bothered Albus's conscience greatly.

_After this is all over,_ he thought, working his jaw from side to side to force up a smile as he took the broom, _I'll bring you a Solarbolt, Rhondi._

He took the broom and said he'd be back soon, and he turned back towards the exit to the Desert Island. He felt her eyes watching him as he crossed through the cold, dimly-lit sand. He wondered how people down here survived without the sun, and then tried to refocus his mind to the task at hand as he re-emerged on the surface.

_Sun will be coming up. Gotta put it on my right as I fly north to Cairo. Follow the Nile. The shop is just a five minute flight from the Pyramids at Giza—_

A voice speaking in a different language came from behind him just as he mounted the broom, and he turned his head to see a pair of girls who had appeared holding hands by the hidden entrance to the Desert Island. One of them looked a lot like Rhondi and the other was wearing a plaid shirt tucked into her jeans.

"Er—say that again, please?" he said, hoping they spoke English as well as Rhondi had, and also hoping that they didn't recognize him.

"I said, who are you, and what are you doing on my mother's broom?" said the girl he assumed was Chelzie.

"Are you Chelzie?" he asked, turning around. "And… Uhima?"

"It's _Uhimba,_" said the other girl, shaking her head. "Honestly… white people."

"Ah," said Chelzie. "Looking for me?"

Albus nodded. "Your mother was. Yeah. Where were you?"

"Exactly where she expected," responded Chelzie. "Nowhere _you_ need to be concerned, kid. Well, we're found. I'll take the broom back to my mother."

She held out an expectant hand.

Albus started to sweat, and her expression darkened even after a very slight delay.

"I said I'll take the broom back," she said.

Albus reached around and grasped his wand.

"THIEF!" screamed Uhimba into the open entrance. "THIEF—HELP!"

"Is my mother alive?!" screamed Chelzie, whipping out a firearm.

"Whoa, hey!" said Albus. "I'll return it! I swear! Or I'll buy a new one for you—I'm sorry, but I need it right now to save the world!"

He clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Save the world!" scoffed Chelzie. "Who do you think you are, Harry Potter?"

She squinted.

"Actually, you kinda look like him," she said.

Albus kicked off the ground as hard as he could and rocketed straight up into the air, then veered sharply away to the north as a shower of bullets flew in his direction.

He breathed through his teeth as he extracted the Invisibility Cloak while in midair and pulled it slowly over his body. "Sorry," he hissed once the Cloak was all the way over, stopping the sand from pelting his face.

He sailed through the early morning light, and as he came across the Nile, he could finally put his brain on autopilot again while he thought about what he'd just seen.

Chelzie hadn't pulled a wand on him—she'd pulled a gun. And Rhondi had said that Chelzie was "not great at defending herself." Was she a Squib?

Was she a Sandblood?

Had she been at a Sandblood gathering all night?

He grimaced at the thought that they might have seen him. Even if they could only tell Wilcox that he was in Africa (assuming the Sandbloods reported to Wilcox now, considering that he said he "owns" the Sandbloods), that could still narrow Wilcox's search down, a lot. They'd have to minimize the time they spent in the Flyby Broom Shop. And hopefully they weren't tracking him right now…

Albus shook his head. How could they track him, even if they knew where he'd been a few minutes ago? He was wearing the Invisibility Cloak, after all, so even if—

Unbearable heat seared across his body in the blink of an eye, and then he was spiraling away with the Cloak slipping off and the broom was falling out of reach. His body was frozen; time had slowed down as he plummeted back down to earth but he still couldn't move. As he slowly turned in midair through his descent, he saw an explosion in the sky above him. Something had struck him.

And then he struck the ground.

He crashed painfully into the desert floor and stopped in a back-breaking halt against a tree by the riverside. A helicopter flew overhead, and people dropped down from it. Albus's vision flickered and faded, but his ears took longer to go out before he dropped unconscious, and he heard some of their dialogue in his trance-like state.

"Got him."

"Look at him—he's not even singed!"

"But he's unconscious."

"That heat-seeking missile should have killed him."

"After all the shit he's pulled? We knew it wouldn't be easy to kill him. That crazy Cloak must have protected him—look at it, it's not even damaged in the slightest."

His hearing faded away as well, and he smelled something burned—it must have been himself that he was smelling. He'd been singed by the heat of the blast, even if the Cloak had protected him from the actual fire. He felt something close around his wrists, and then the darkness engulfed his other senses.

O

His senses returned in the opposite order he'd lost them. First the feeling in his wrists returned—he was cuffed to something. A chair, it seemed. He smelled something strong and sharp, something that jolted him back to life faster. He heard voices chatting nearby, and he opened his eyes as the world came back into focus.

He was strapped to a tall chair; even his head was strapped into place against the chair's back. He was sitting alone at one of the short ends of a long, rectangular table. At the other end was a face he recognized very easily: it was Marsilia Scadjair, who had become the head of the Sandbloods once Malseth and Viller had been killed.

This was it. He'd been captured by the Sandbloods. After the escape he'd pulled last time, there was no way they were going to let something like that happen again. They might have even gotten a mulunctapol to drain him already, or were using those magic-suppressing orbs he'd seen down in the Hourglass Empire. He was dead. He knew it would happen eventually, but not so soon…

"Ah, good," said Scadjair from the opposite end of the table. "You're awake."

She slammed a gavel on the table.

"The council on how to destroy Helio Wilcox," she said, "has officially begun."


	6. The Cairo Flyby

CHAPTER SIX

THE CAIRO FLYBY

O

Albus blinked.

"What?" he said numbly.

"Friends, welcome our special guest," said Scadjair. "Albus Severus Potter. The one who has been giving us—but more importantly, Helio Wilcox—a whole hell of a lot of trouble."

Several of the Sandbloods applauded appreciatively. Albus looked around; he'd never imagined a situation like _this_ happening and he had no idea how to react.

"We have been misinformed and misled," said Scadjair. "We now have intelligence which tells us that Helio Wilcox is the Man in the Shadows, and that he plans to destroy all non-magical peoples. Including us, after he had professed to support us. He gave us assistance only for his own purposes. The mulunctapoli were given to us only to make us a credible enough threat to distract from him. And since he had planned such an easy way to kill non-magical people—his Shadow's Engine—we would be an easy cleanup after all was said and done. Or so he thought."

The Sandbloods were glaring mutinously at each other, furious with Wilcox's schemes. Albus's heart dared to flutter; were they on the same side?

But then why would they have chained him to the chair…? So that he didn't escape before he knew what was going on, maybe?

"It has also come to our attention that the Potter family knows the most about Wilcox," said Scadjair. "So it was really quite convenient that Albus Potter, the only one looking like he might prove to be a match to Wilcox, stumbled into the Desert Island and alerted our spies. Where were you before that—the Hourglass Empire?"

Albus stared.

"Feel free to chime in at any time," said Scadjair. "We're just brainstorming here. Anything to add yet?"

"I—what?" said Albus numbly.

His eyes drifted over to a clock hanging on the conference room wall.

A little before four o'clock… He still had time, if he could manage another escape… or if they let him out.

Assuming today was the same day he'd left. He could have been unconscious for over a day, for all he knew. He could have already missed Aidan and Alec. He'd have to probe that topic with some subtle questions.

"I said, feel free to chime in whenever," said Scadjair. "I'm just assuming you want to destroy Wilcox as much as we do."

"Sorry," said Albus, swaying exaggeratedly. "I'm… not quite with it yet… I feel like I've been unconscious for a month."

"Oh, suck it up," said Scadjair. "You've only been out a few hours. You've had worse. At our hands, actually."

_Only a few hours. Thank Merlin. It's still the day I can meet Aidan and Alec…_

"So pull yourself together," said Scadjair. "And look around you. You've got the full might of the Sandbloods on your side now, and we're pissed. Wilcox won't know what's coming until it hits him, because we've taken steps to expunge his presence here. So don't hold back. Tell us what you know about Wilcox, and we'll take it from here."

Albus shook his head. "So, you're… on our side now? All of the Sandbloods?"

"I wouldn't quite call it that," said Scadjair. "Wilcox isn't the root of all of our issues with magical society, but he's the current threat to almost everyone, and that tends to unite almost everyone against him. After he's gone, we can refocus on the rest of wizardkind."

"So you want me to help you kill Wilcox," said Albus, "so that you can kill all the wizards later?"

Scadjair smirked. "It's either all the wizards or all the non-magical people," she said. "And wizards are a much smaller percentage of the population."

Albus rolled his eyes. "You know what the best thing for you to do would be? If you want to defeat Wilcox? Let me go."

Most of the Sandbloods chuckled.

"No, I'm serious," said Albus. "Most of what I know is information that's been protected by the Fidelius Charm, and I can't tell you anyway. I'm the only one who's actually able to act on this information, but I can't do much if I'm chained to a chair."

"Then tell us what you _can_ tell us," said Scadjair.

Albus sighed. "What I _can_ tell you is that Wilcox has eyes everywhere, especially where you think he doesn't, and he can probably see me here, and he'll probably send a bunch of people here to kill you all and capture me for himself."

The Sandbloods looked around nervously.

"This conference room is shielded by magic-resistant walls," said Scadjair.

"Yeah, because that protected you so well against Shatterbolts," said Albus. "Wilcox will be using magic you're not prepared to face. And you think he isn't keeping an eye on your base? Even if he couldn't see me now, he probably saw you carrying me in."

"Again, magic-resistant transport…"

"Again, _Wilcox isn't using the sort of magic you're protecting against,_" said Albus. "This is the sort of thing I can't explain to you… But believe me that you are absolutely not prepared to face it."

He had told Aidan and Alec about the Devoctrices, so it was entirely possible that he might be able to tell the Sandbloods… But probably best not to let the Sandbloods know that.

"You've gotta let me go," said Albus. "Or you're all dead. And so am I. And so much for defeating Wilcox."

"Then you'll have to tell us what you know as soon as possible so we can get you out of here as soon as possible," said Scadjair. "But you're not leaving until you give us information that will definitively give us the advantage over Wilcox. It's clear he's searching for something. What's he after? Let's start there."

_I didn't even find that one out in time,_ thought Albus, working his jaw around anxiously as he tried to think how he would respond.

"Broio, the Veritaserum, then," said Scadjair, gesturing to a man with a frightening number of scars on his angry-looking face. He stood up and extracted a bottle of clear potion from his pocket.

_Shit,_ thought Albus with a grimace. If the information about the Devoctrices came out here, to all these evil individuals…

Broio stood next to Albus, and uncapped the bottle. He deposited some of it into an eyedropper.

"This is getting in your body somehow," said Broio, holding up full the eyedropper in front of Albus's face. "It's up to you whether you'll open your mouth and receive it the easy way, or whether I turn you upside down and jab it in your nose. So… easy way sound good?"

Albus responded by roaring out a blast of fire from his mouth like a dragon. Broio ducked and dove, then came up behind Albus and stuck the eyedropper in his open mouth, squeezing it until all of the Veritaserum was emptied inside. He then took out a small handheld device and gave Albus a brief electric shock, not strong enough to be incredibly painful, but strong enough to override Albus's muscles and stop him from reacting until the Veritaserum had slid down his throat.

Albus coughed and tried to retch, but it wasn't working. Broio moved back in front of him, and as Albus glared back up at him, Broio winked.

"_Fake it,_" he breathed slowly.

Albus raised an eyebrow. What did _that_ mean?

As Broio moved back away, Scadjair leaned into the table and said, more forcefully, "What is Helio Wilcox searching for?"

And Albus felt no urge to answer her question honestly at all.

He glanced very briefly over at Broio, who was walking back to his seat closer to Scadjair, and then redirected his gaze back to Scadjair. As he investigated the situation, he realized that there was no taste in his mouth at all, and that he had no reaction to whatever he had been administered…

Broio had given him _water._

He didn't know why this "Broio" seemed to be on his side, but he didn't argue with it. He instead faked a response to the Veritaserum he was never given, and he jerked back and forth in his chair for a while before answering.

"He's—searching for something that—starts with an S," he said, in the sputtering fashion he had seen when he'd given the Veritaserum to Wilcox. "I was—interrogating him with Veritaserum—just like you're doing with me—when I asked him the same question, he s-said—he started to answer and was cut off when I was attacked from behind."

"Nice work with that one," said Scadjair. "I expected better from you. What else did you ask Wilcox during this interrogation?"

Albus pretended to be holding back the answer, but was really trying to give himself time to think. After a few more convulsions, he sputtered, "Just—whether he was the Man in the Shadows—no time for anything else before h—before he got away."

"Why is Wilcox hunting you so feverishly?" asked Scadjair, now leaning further in.

"Because I know—about him being the Man in the Shadows."

"There is more at play here!" shouted Scadjair, slamming her fists down on the table. "What else do you know? We know there are others after you! Why are they hunting you?! Does it have something to with that shiny new eye of yours? Tell us about how _that_ happened!"

Albus stalled; he wracked his head for something he could say in place of the truth, but he stalled too long. The Sandbloods fidgeted, and he wondered if they were onto him—

"Marsilia," said Broio, "I'll remind you that not even Veritaserum can get him to tell us a secret protected by the Fidelius Charm… He may very well be shouting it out to the world at large right now, but we cannot hear him."

Albus tried to stay mostly still, and silently thanked Broio. Who was he, and why was he helping?

Scadjair drummed her fingers on the table. "We'll crack him eventually," she said. "We'll find _something_ to go on. He knows more than he should. How long should this Veritaserum dose last?"

"Not sure," said Broio. "Depends on the amount of fight in the individual. I'll let you know when it seems like he's not answering quite honestly."

"How much of it have our wizard puppets brewed?"

"Enough for even a full day of interrogation if we had to. We have plenty."

Albus's eyes flew to the clock again as the three head Sandbloods at the other end of the table whispered amongst each other. Past four o'clock…

"—and it's going to happen at half past four today," declared Albus abruptly, cutting into the conversation.

Every Sandblood turned to face him again.

"_What's_ going to happen?" asked Scadjair. "And—when?"

Albus remained silent for a moment, and then cut back in: "—at half past four today."

"Goddammit, _what_ is going to happen?!" shouted Scadjair.

Albus remained silent again.

"Is it going to happen _here?_" said Scadjair. "At this base?"

"No," said Albus. "It's going to happen in Cairo."

He gritted his teeth, hoping this was the right path to his escape…

"The timing seems awfully convenient, though," said Scadjair. "Less than a half hour after he wakes up? Broio… Another dose. Just in case."

Broio nodded and took the bottle out of his pocket again. He walked back to Albus, and Albus tried to fake refusing it again. Broio stuck the filled-up eyedropper back in his mouth and stuck him with the electrifying device again; Albus knew he probably needed it to seem genuine, but it still hurt. He swallowed the water as Scadjair continued.

"What is happening at four-thirty today?" she asked directly.

Albus stared back at her.

"It's not going to work, no matter how high the dose, if the information is protected by Fidelius," said Broio.

"Is it important?" she asked Albus.

"Yes," said Albus.

"Could it contribute to the downfall of Wilcox?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Where exactly in Cairo?"

Albus cringed. "The—the Flyby Broom Shop."

Scadjair made a thoroughly confused face. "What could possibly be happening _there?_"

"We know they're constructing another Shadow's Engine," said the woman to her right, whom Albus recognized as Mella Ligmia, another Sandblood leader. "And that they need a way to transport it to London…"

"That could be where they're constructing it," said Tawder Brune, who was sitting at Scadjair's left. "Potter was headed in that direction when we gunned him down. He may have been going there to stop it. And we know that the Slytherins had the Fidelius Curse on them about the Shadow's Engine that was being constructed under Hogwarts. This Fidelius Charm on Albus could be about the new Shadow's Engine!"

Albus was caught between emotions; one was thrilled that his plan might be working, and the other was horror that Wilcox was building another Shadow's Engine, and was planning on transporting it to London.

"Then they could be constructing it there because they want to use a large number of brooms to carry it," said Scadjair. "That would make sense—it's a method of transport that's unregulated like they'd need. All right. If that's what's happening, then we storm the Flyby Broom Shop before four-thirty and we find where he's keeping it."

"I know how to get into the tunnel system under the shop, and how to get through it," blurted Albus.

"How?" asked Scadjair, whipping her head back around to face him.

Albus snapped his mouth shut.

"Great," said Scadjair. "We'll bring some MM with us to make sure Albus is fighting one hundred percent on our side. We need to leave now if that four-thirty deadline is true! How far are we by flight, from Cairo?"

"Twenty minutes, ma'am!" said a woman standing guard by the door.

Scadjair whirled around to face the clock. "Brune, carry Albus up," she said.

She stood up and tugged at her collar, where there was a small radio, pulling it closer to her mouth.

"Listen up, we need a helicopter ready to go in sixty seconds for when we get topside," she said. "And someone down at Potions, get me a couple of vials of the Marionette's Medicine that was made with my fluids. We're giving it to Albus Potter. Copy? Get the MM to the helicopter in under sixty seconds!"

Brune ran towards Albus, and unhooked the headband. He flipped a switch on the back of the chair, and the handcuffs were unhooked.

"Don't try anything, kid," he warned. "Even if you escaped, you'd never get to Cairo in time to save London without us."

Brune, who was seven feet of muscle, then picked Albus up and threw him over his shoulder as Scadjair ran from the room. Ligmia and Brune followed her, headed for wherever the helicopter was, as Albus bounced awkwardly on Brune's back.

Broio ran up behind them, silently. He extracted a wand from inside his sleeve, and passed it to Albus. Brune didn't notice, carrying Albus on his back, and with Brune slowed down by his load, there was no one running behind them to see.

Broio pointed to his head, and then to Albus's, and Albus understood; he cast a silent Connectivity Charm between them and then hid the wand up his own sleeve.

_Thank you,_ Albus thought to Broio first. _Why are you helping me?_

_I should properly reintroduce myself first,_ thought Broio back. _The name's not Broio… Not originally, anyway. The name was Clayton Slater._

Albus forced back the gasp that had almost come up. Clay had been involved in the Dismiusa incident at Hogwarts; he was one of the Aurors stationed there. And he had been bitten by a mulunctapol, drained of his magic—turned into a Squib.

_You're undercover for the Aurors here?!_

_Yes. Disguised my face with surgery and infiltrated as an underling first. Worked my way a little bit up, slowly. Pretended to subtly reveal that I knew a lot about Potions, subtly so they wouldn't expect I was trying to shoot up the ranks on purpose. When they asked me how much I knew about Potions, I casually revealed that I knew a lot more than I had been letting on. They didn't suspect a thing, and they made me head of Potions at this base. So that's how I was able to save your hide when I heard you were coming…_

_Thank you so much!_ thought Albus, exhilarated. _What about the Marionette's Medicine that's coming, though? How are we going to stop that?_

_I don't know how you're going to stop that. As soon as Scadjair gives you that—and I assume she'll be administering that herself—you'll reveal everything, including that I helped you. So I'm hoping you're as good with a wand as they say…_

_But I still need to get to Cairo by four-thirty!_

_Seriously? That wasn't a diversion?_

_No. Aidan and Alec are waiting for me there, and if I miss the four-thirty meeting time, they'll have to assume I was killed while escaping the desert, and they'll leave. I don't know if I'll ever find them again. And I need them._

_Know any spells that would fool all three into thinking you took the potion?_

_No,_ thought Albus in frustration.

_Think fast! I see the helicopter ahead of us… someone's waiting with the MM!_

Albus ground his teeth. Professor Desulgon would have been able to make some sort of illusion that made it look like he'd taken the potion… Why couldn't Desulgon have taught him the spell that he used to do that? It would have helped so much if—

Maybe Professor Desulgon _had_ taught him something that could save him here…

Scadjair was yelling to Brune about something. Albus waited until Brune shouted something back, and under cover of Brune's booming voice, he whispered, "_Entrain!_"

_Did you think of something?_

_Yes,_ thought Albus back. _But I don't know if it's going to work, so I'm going to have to prepare to fight my way through if it fails. Can you fly a helicopter?_

_I can fly it if it were already in the air, I've done that before. But taking off or landing… I couldn't make any promises._

_All right, I'll Imperius someone if it comes to that,_ thought Albus. _Here goes… I'm going to need to cut off our conversation while I concentrate, though._

_Okay._

Albus pictured, clearly in his mind, the moment that someone was about to give him the Marionette's Medicine. He pictured the jet of a Confundus Charm materializing directly under their clothes and striking them in the chest, so that no one else noticed.

They arrived at the helicopter. Someone handed off the MM to Scadjair, and they climbed aboard the helicopter. Brune held Albus's hands together, took a pair of handcuffs hanging inside the helicopter's cabin and re-handcuffed him as Ligmia took to the controls.

They started to take off, and Brune held Albus's head back as Scadjair opened up one of the vials of MM she had been given.

"You don't have to use that," said Albus, a last-ditch effort in case his plan wasn't going to work. "I'm on your side right now."

"But we could still make quite good use of you," said Scadjair. "Even as a hostage. Wilcox might suspect we've defected as a group, but if we have you to tease him with… Now, open up or Broio will have to shock you again."

Clay held up the electrifying device and waved it in front of Albus's face, smirking.

"Actually, Broio, shock him anyway," said Scadjair, holding it just above his mouth. "This is valuable stuff."

_Pretend to shock me, don't actually do it,_ thought Albus to Clay.

_Tacit,_ thought Clay back to him.

"My best chance to defeat Wilcox is on my own, when I can do what I need to do without interference," said Albus. "Why can't you just set me free when this expedition reaches its _End?_"

As he said the last word, disguising the incantation inside his last sentence, he slipped Clay's wand back down to his handcuffed hands and grabbed the tip of the wand with his right index finger and thumb.

Apparently, it wasn't so precisely accurate as he'd hoped; perhaps to have greater effect, he needed to charge the spell for longer. The Confundus Charm originated about five feet behind Scadjair and struck her in the back of her right shoulder. It still hit its mark, but Brune looked up with a suspicious glare as Scadjair jolted with the effect of the clearly visible spell and Albus tried to edge the wand back into his sleeve.

"What was that flash?" shouted Ligmia from the front.

But Scadjair recovered fast—she replaced the bottle in her robes and smiled. "Because, Potter, you can still do what you need to do, but now you have our full force backing you," she said. "So let's get this started. Tell us exactly what we need to do once we're inside."

Brune and Ligmia seemed to drop the topic fast, and Brune even removed Albus's handcuffs, but they still remained wary. Albus breathed a sigh of relief and started jumping into the act of pretending to be under the influence of MM. He recalled that when he'd used MM on Malseth, Malseth had immediately jumped into action doing things to help Albus. He needed to do the same.

"Once you get in," said Albus, drawing the recollection from the trip under the Hut-on-the-Rock and adding a few details, "there will be a burning maze of fire. The walls are constantly changing, and there will be fighters coming in from all directions. I'll be needing my wands back, and you'll all need weapons as well."

He grabbed a fancy-looking sword from the wall of the helicopter, and tossed it to Brune.

Brune didn't even move to catch it, and the sword bounced off his chest, nearly slicing his foot in half as it landed. He was staring at the hand that Albus had used to pick the sword off the wall.

_Why is he staring like that?_ thought Albus to Clay, starting to worry again.

"He picked up the sword," said Brune, whirling around to face the others. "Did you see that? He picked up the sword! What the bloody hell is going on?!"

_You just picked up a sword,_ thought Clay back, _which is enchanted only to be movable by a Squib. Only Squibs are supposed to be able to pick it up. _

_What?_

_I can't even pick it up because I wasn't originally a Squib. I've tried. Not while they're watching, of course, but I've tried. I can't budge it. How did you do that?_

"Is this some kind of joke?" yelled Ligmia, whose eyes were on the sky ahead. "I'm not laughing, Brune. This isn't the time for humor."

"Mella, he picked up the sword," said Scadjair. "And tossed it to Brune."

"That's not possible," said Ligmia.

_You'd better thank your lucky stars you COULD move it,_ thought Clay._ If you had tried it and it hadn't moved, they would have known you weren't taking subconscious orders from Scadjair, since she never would have thought you could move it and never would have had you try. By the way, if that was a Confundus Charm you used, that's not going to last forever. She's going to notice she doesn't have the same kind of connection with your head as usual._

_I don't need it to last forever,_ thought Albus. _I need it to last twenty more minutes until we get to Cairo._

"How did you move that?" asked Scadjair, staring at Albus with very narrowed eyes as they burst into the afternoon sunlight.

Albus looked between the three faces staring at him. He honestly didn't know.

"The kid's a walking enigma," said Clay. "Potter… how did you know you could move that?"

_Stay silent,_ Clay then immediately commanded Albus via thought.

Albus stayed silent as instructed.

"Fidelius again," said Clay. "Wonderful."

_Quick thinking,_ commented Albus inside his head. _I appreciate the bail-out._

_You're welcome. What IS the new eye about, anyway?_

_I actually still can't tell you._

_Sure, I understand. Not like I saved your life multiple times or anything._

_It's the actual Fidelius Charm information,_ lied Albus to Clay, hoping he hadn't offended his rescuer like he'd offended Lucas and his other friends last year.

_Merlin, you really ARE a walking enigma…_

_Is this the same helicopter that carried me in?_ asked Albus, suddenly hopeful.

_Yes._

_Are my belongings all still here?_

_They should be. They'd be above the copilot's seat. Stick your hand in the handle and push UPWARDS to unlatch it. Make sure you look like you know what you're doing!_

Albus, pretending to know these things through Scadjair's subconscious, walked up to the front of the plane next to Ligmia, and pushed up on the handle. The compartment unlatched and then fell open, and he found his bag, still seemingly full. He pulled his bag down, and extracted his two wands, which he found inside. There was soft warmth in both his arms as he held his own wands again instead of Clay's. He debated how to return Clay's wand, but realized Clay probably didn't need it anymore.

Scadjair and Brune were slipping on magic-resistant armor, and Brune picked up the sword, looking back and forth between the sword and Albus again.

_What does the sword do, exactly?_

_It's goblin-made. It can Dissipate spells, and reflect them if you use the blade like a mirror._

"Tell us more about what we're going to find down there," said Ligmia from the front.

"I don't know everything that's down there," responded Albus. "But I know what you're going to find at the end, which is why we're going there."

"And you can't tell us what that is," said Scadjair, glaring at him.

Albus shook his head.

"But have we guessed it?" asked Scadjair.

Albus didn't answer.

"All signs point to it being the Shadow's Engine that we'll find there, ma'am," said Clay.

"And we know it was in Africa," said Brune.

Albus tried to think what else he could do to prepare for their arrival, but he was also wondering about that Shadow's Engine. Wilcox had another one in Africa—that he was going to transport to London to kill all non-magical people? This was another pressing issue…

_Clay, is there seriously another Shadow's Engine?_

_Yes. We've been scouring the Sahara and secretly the Hourglass Empire as well, but we can't find anything. It could be literally anywhere in the continent. It's currently the Sandbloods' heaviest concern. The Auror Office already knows about it, through me, but they can't let on that they know or Wilcox will move it, or defend it better. But we can worry about that after your escape. Time to give them more instructions on what to do once you're inside, I think. Use some Sandblood terminology so they don't keep getting suspicious—tell them to Overflank the shop once you arrive, and to Tox the manager._

"Overflank the shop when we arrive, and Tox the manager," said Albus, and Brune and Scadjair even seemed to relax at this order. "I'll open up the tunnel system, but I'll need to have around fifteen seconds undisturbed."

_Tell them to smash a Spellsplitter in the shop,_ thought Clay._ It's the orb that stops magic. You're familiar?_

_Yes—but won't that make my escape harder?_

_You're in a broom shop!_

_They'll have anti-theft magic active,_ thought Albus. _Those aren't so easily dismissed by spell cancellers._

_I'll throw them the money._

_You got enough money for three brooms? Aidan and Alec should be there. They're supposed to have the money, but just in case…_

_Yes. You'll have to make do with shitty brooms, though. I'm not packing enough for three Solarbolts here._

"Smash a Spellsplitter in the shop right away," said Albus to the Sandbloods. "It'll be easiest. I'll go without magic until we're far enough underground."

"Will we be able to reach the machine in time to stop it from leaving and destroy it?" asked Scadjair.

"We'll be able to do what we need to do, if we waste no time," said Albus.

_What about you?_ Albus thought to Clay._ If they see you throwing money at the cashier, they'll know you're a double agent._

_I'll split and lose myself in the crowd. Cairo's a big city; they won't find me again. I'll rejoin up with your father. It's getting too dangerous for me to be around the Sandbloods anymore, anyway. Any moment Wilcox could come wipe them out and I'd be with them. I'm better off—_

_You know where my father is?!_ thought Albus, very nearly vocalizing his excitement.

_I do. He's hiding out with your Uncle Charlie and a few others in Romania, on a deal with the vampires. They're using the vampires' special brand of magic to conceal the group. They've got dragons as watchdogs, so if you go to visit him, make sure you've got something fireproof, claw-proof, spiked-tail-proof… generally dragon-proof._

_Where specifically in Romania?_

_We can talk about this later, Albus. You still need to keep feeding them information so they don't suspect you. Tell them this should progress similarly to the Mutchet raids but to watch for brooms because the brooms won't be stopped by the Spellsplitter, or something._

"This should all go very similarly to the Mutchet raids," said Albus confidently. "Just watch out—the brooms won't be stopped by the Spellsplitter, so they might still run us down pretty easily if we're not watching for them."

"Not a problem," said Brune, extracting a powerful-looking gun. "Like duck hunting. Bring on the brooms."

_Tell him to be on the lookout for Freezers before they smash the Spellsplitter._

"Look out for Freezers before you smash the Spellsplitter," said Albus.

_They'll know what that means. Good—I think they're finally losing the skepticism from that sword incident. Don't do anything rash like that again without running it by me first, and we'll be fine. You're going to make it out of this._

"How far out are we?" called Scadjair.

"Five minutes," said Ligmia. "I've been hurrying."

"Hurry more," said Scadjair, checking her watch. "It's four twenty-three. We're pressed for time here. Screw the government. Fly it right through the city and we'll jump down, Potter can cushion us."

"Anything else we should know?" asked Brune.

"Just that a lot of people are counting on us to do this right," said Albus.

Brune nodded.

It sickened Albus to think that these people, so desperate to save their own kind, could not sympathize with the entire population of the wizarding world they wanted to destroy. Although, hopefully, if all went better than expected from this plan, maybe the Sandbloods would feel the pain of thinking all the non-magical people in London were doomed, and realize that they were causing the same pain…

Albus rolled his eyes to himself. This wasn't a fairy-tale. That wasn't likely, or they probably would never have become the Sandbloods in the first place if they were capable of that kind of empathy.

"GPS says we're three minutes out, at this pace," called Ligmia from the front. "Marsilia, come take the controls for a minute, just hold our bearings while I slip on some armor."

"Do you have the exact coordinates in the GPS or will we need Albus to direct us once we're in Cairo?"

"I don't have the exact coordinates—it's not in Muggle Cairo. But I'm taking us to Magical Cairo, which isn't as big. We should be able to find the shop easily."

"Can we even find Magical Cairo?"

"We've got a wizard on board, so, yes."

Albus eyed the sword that Brune was holding, and wondered if he might make use of it later… He'd have to see if he could snag it on his way out, but if it was too risky, he wasn't about to lay his life on the line for it.

"Hey, kid," said Brune, seeing Albus look in his direction.

Albus met his gaze.

"I know you can't respond to me, but you will be able to hear me, and you'll remember what I've said once you're out of the MM," said Brune. "So I'd like to explain ourselves a little bit."

Albus kept the eye contact. Ligmia, changing into her battle armor, was also listening to Brune and watching their interaction.

"Sorry about all the death and destruction," said Brune. "But you've got to realize it's for the best. Look at the last hundred years of magical history. Despot after tyrant after warlord, tearing apart the peaceful world that so many of us try to live in. Grindelwald. Tytezian. Voldemort. Voldemort again. Ingot. And now Wilcox. So many of them bent on domination of Muggles and Squibs and Muggle-borns… And so many of them succeeding for too long before they're taken down. How many Muggles died during Voldemort's reign? Or Ingot's? Oh, wait—no one was actually tallying, because no one cared enough about us to keep track.

"Now, there are bad Muggles, too. And a lot of Muggles die because of other Muggles. But when magic gets involved… It is far too easy for wizards to kill Muggles. And most of us can't defend ourselves against this level of threat. Only recently have a few of us taken a fighting stance against this, but still, many of us are dying. And many of _you_ will die before the next phase is over. But again, it is all for the best."

Albus nodded, but this sounded an awful lot like Wilcox's speech so far.

"Magic is becoming too powerful," said Brune. "People like Wilcox are proving that. Eventually, a witch or wizard is going to end up destroying the entire world. If not Wilcox, then someone like him will do it. They're not going to stop coming. Voldemort, Ingot, Dismiusa, and Wilcox, all in the past quarter century. How many more before one finally does the world a blow from which the world can't recover? Ingot was more powerful than Voldemort, just less cunning. But Wilcox is as powerful as Ingot, it would seem, and as cunning as Voldemort. If not more, on either count. They're going to keep coming. My point is… to keep the world safe… all magic has to be destroyed."

Albus kept his gaze level and tried not to react.

"I don't expect the Albus within you to agree," said Brune, "but maybe you'll understand a little bit better why we have to kill all of your kind to keep the rest of us safe. As long as someone is using magic, those of us without it are not safe. No one is, really. It's either wait for the wizards to destroy everything, or destroy the wizards so the rest of us can live on. Maybe not living on in _peace_—that's a goal the world may never reach—but at least living on."

"We're half a minute out," said Scadjair. "Broio, you're staying and flying the helicopter closely around in case we need an extraction. Got it?"

_Shit, Albus, I can't follow you down to help. Pass close by me and I'll slip you money in case you need it._

Ligmia had finished putting on her armor. She ran back up to the controls for a moment. They dipped down closer, and then they all walked to the door of the helicopter, which Brune was tugging open as Albus passed by Clay, who slipped a pouch of money into his bag unseen.

"We all jump at the same time so that Albus can use a Cushioning Charm on all of us," said Scadjair, eyeing the GPS in front and the shops rushing by below them. "On the count of three. Jump on three."

They positioned themselves for the jump.

"One—two—three!"

They leapt from the helicopter, sailing to the ground.

"_Bolstra!_" shouted Albus.

As they crashed into the ground, only Albus's flight path was slowed; Ligmia, Brune, and Scadjair crashed painfully into the ground, so hard that they were immediately knocked unconscious, possibly killed.

Albus looked up as people around him screamed, getting back to business with frighteningly little sympathy for what had just happened. He was pleased to note he was right across the street from the Flyby Broom Shop.

Aidan and Alec burst out of the shop into the light, wands at the ready, and staggered to a stop when they saw the unconscious bodies of the three top Sandblood leaders lying littered around Albus, who was Stunning them in the heads for good measure and ripping off Brune's armor.

"We could use this," he said. "Help me get the armor off the other two. Stow it in your bags."

"You've been busy," commented Alec, but he and Aidan didn't stop to ask questions and they did as Albus instructed.

"Let's hurry this up, and buy some brooms so we can get out of here," said Albus, taking Brune's. "The police here are sure to take notice of this, and Wilcox might not even be far behind, he may have seen me get taken by the Sandbloods—"

"You got _captured_ by the Sandbloods?!" yelped Aidan, having just finished stowing Ligmia's armor. "And then you what, asked if you could carpool with them to Cairo? I mean—never mind, tell us later!"

"I was planning on it," said Albus. "Just—"

_ALBUS, GET OUT OF HERE!_

Clay's scream burst inside his head painfully.

_What's going on? Is it Wilcox?_

_Yes, it's—_

Clay's voice cut off and the connection went dead in Albus's head, at exactly the same time as there was a massive explosion from somewhere over their heads. A detached helicopter blade spun into the cake shop across the street, demolishing it in a blow and spinning into the building behind it, which exploded as well. Pieces of burning helicopter rained down on the streets as nine brooms streaked overhead, turning when they saw the boys in the street.

"Let's go!" roared Alec, and then Albus had a sudden thought.

"_Accio Spellsplitter!_" he yelled, whipping out his wand.

The orb flew towards him, and as a hooded man flew towards him on a broom, shouting the Killing Curse, Albus let the Spellsplitter fly by him, shattering on the wall of the Flyby Broom Shop behind them.

The Killing Curse dissipated in midair just as it was about to hit him; Albus still dove out of the way instinctively, but he was glad to know it had worked.

"No spells!" said Albus to Aidan and Alec. "But if Wilcox is here, he could still use a Dev, as far as I know, so let's go!"

He sprinted into the Flyby.

"Welcome to the Cairo Flyby Broom Shop," said the cashier, a depressed-looking old ghost who seemed to take absolutely no notice of the multiple shops engulfed in flames which were plainly visible outside her window.

Albus threw the pouch of money at the ghost. It sailed through her translucent skull and smacked against the wall before plummeting back down to the floor.

"Keep the change!" he said, as he pulled three broomsticks off the wall one after another, tossing the first to Aidan and the next to Alec and mounting the third himself.

"Thank you for your patronage," said the ghost, sounding quite bored.

Two of the broom riders on the attack suddenly burst through the window of the Flyby, and whipped out their wands, looking baffled when nothing happened.

"Welcome to the Cairo Flyby Broom Shop," droned the ghost to the two wizards who had just crashed through her window.

Albus, Alec, and Aidan mounted their brooms and sped off in a triangle formation, with Albus in the back. But their pursuers' brooms were faster, and soon they'd be out of range of the Spellsplitter…

"We'll have to Disapparate!" said Albus. "Grab hands when we're able to use magic again!"

"They'll almost certainly be able to track us if we Apparate without an Egyptian license here," said Aidan. "Egypt is really strict about those laws!"

"Turn around!" said Alec. "Fly to the Pyramids!"

Aidan looked over at him.

"When I was with the Liner, we picked up a few people who summoned the Liner to really weird locations," said Alec, turning around; they were in a system of mutual trust, and Aidan and Albus turned around with him even though they didn't know fully why yet. "They had no idea where they were, because they went to visit a Pyramid. The Pyramids at Giza teleport you away somewhere random in the world if you try to enter the deepest burial chambers! If we fly in holding hands, we'll all go to the same place, far away from here. The Liner even picked up people floating in the middle of the Atlantic. But as for us—we'll be taking our brooms with us!"

They swerved upwards to avoid the pursuing party as they crossed paths, and their assailants still attempted using their wands. Albus wasn't sure how long this Spellsplitter would last, or how far its range was, but they couldn't worry about that now.

They flew back over the street where the Sandbloods had fallen; nearly all of the citizens had cleared out after the commotion, and they had a plain view of the three Sandblood leaders. All three had their heads crushed in, as if a large boot had stomped their skulls pancake-flat against the street. A menacing-looking figure stood above the bodies.

"Oh shit, it's Wilcox," breathed Albus.

Wilcox mounted a broom and sped into the air.

"Go, go, _go!_" screamed Aidan. "Not far to the pyramids—just press your brooms harder!"

"He can't cast spells, and he wouldn't use a Dev without a Catalyst or else he'd trigger the Contagion worse," shouted Albus. "But soon we'll be out of range of the Spellsplitter and he's gaining on us—"

"Then we'll Apparate to the Pyramids!" said Aidan. "Who cares what the government thinks about it, if we're just going to be vanishing two seconds later?"

"Good, good!" said Albus. He took out his wand. "Fly close to me, and keep your hands on my shoulders—Aidan, Apparate us when you see my wand light! _Lumos—Lumos—Lumos—Lumos—_"

They were traveling fast on the brooms, and it wasn't long before his wand tip lit, but it felt like several years when Wilcox was growing closer by the second. Aidan spun his broom around in midair immediately upon seeing the light, and Albus and Alec's brooms spun instantly as well in reaction; just before they vanished, they caught sight of Wilcox's snarling face not twenty feet behind them.

They reappeared right in front of the Pyramids, and toppled off of their brooms after the rocky teleportation. Scrambling back on amongst the Muggle crowd erupting with shock at their appearance, and all three ignoring various bleeding areas of their skin where they had been Splinched, they flew into the entrance, down a narrow passageway.

"Just dig!" exclaimed Aidan. "_Defodio Maxima!_"

Alec and Albus echoed the spell, each keeping a hand on one of Aidan's shoulders, ignoring the shrieks of disdain from the people horror-struck at their desecration of a sacred monument, and they kept digging as far as they could and descending into the earth. For all they knew, Wilcox could have found a way to track Apparition, and he could appear right behind them with a Killing Curse in half a second—

And then they were tumbling down a steep grassy slope. They finally slid to a stop in a muddy riverbank, not without a few rocks scraping their arms and legs on the way. But, Albus thought to calm his rampaging heart as he lifted himself up on his arms, there was no way Wilcox should be able to follow them here…

"It's random teleportation every time, right?" he choked weakly. "Not traceable?"

"Right," said Alec through a mouthful of mud.

Albus let himself fall back into the riverbank.

"Thank Merlin," he groaned.

"Thank Merlin," echoed Aidan.

"Hey—who's there?!" shouted a voice from over the hill.

"Fuck you, Merlin," mumbled Alec.

A figure appeared at the top of the hill, wand directed at them. Albus fished around for his wands in the mud, but found nothing—

Then the wand was lowered.

"Albus?" whispered a very familiar voice. "Alec—Aidan?"

The three boys stared up into the very bemused face of Lucas Lotor.

Then they glanced back at each other.

"Okay, there is no_ way_ that was random," said Aidan.


	7. A Nice Foreboding Drop-in

CHAPTER SEVEN

A NICE FOREBODING DROP-IN

O

Lucas handed Aidan a bottle of an antibacterial potion from the bathroom medicine cabinet and they walked back to sit on the couch with Albus and Alec.

"My parents are going to be back before dinner tonight," he said, checking the clock. Here in Massachusetts, it was still a few minutes before eleven o'clock. "They're not gonna want to see you here, considering you were one of the main reasons they made me move back here. They're also not gonna want to see all the mud you tracked in the house."

Albus looked around. They'd washed themselves off in the river, and there wasn't any mud that he could see. It was wet, but not dirty.

"Please don't use magic at all, though," said Lucas, holding up a hand. "Not while Albus still has the Trace on him. Even if we're in a magical household, Wilcox would probably be doing a sweeping search of all magic used near someone with the Trace, and I'd really rather not lead him here. I'm sure you wouldn't, either."

They had given the brief explanation to Lucas as they walked back to his house.

"No," said Albus. "We wouldn't."

"Thank you for letting us in at all," said Aidan, "considering the ruin that's likely going to be left behind us everywhere we go."

"You're my friends," said Lucas simply, and he left it at that.

"You're the best kind of friend," said Albus. "Thanks."

Lucas smiled ever so slightly. "So… what brings you around these parts? It didn't look or sound like this visit was planned."

"We dug our way into a burial chamber of the Great Pyramids," said Alec. "To teleport us away somewhere random. And it brought us here."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Guys… my property is four acres."

He looked around at them, apparently expecting some sort of response.

"That's a lot of space," said Alec after a moment's silence. "Good for your parents?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I mean, the expanse of my property is less than one percent of one square mile."

"Well, when you put it that way," said Alec, "your parents just sound like losers."

Lucas dug his hand into his face. "My point is that my property covers less than one percent of a square mile, and the surface area of this planet is nearly _two hundred million_ square miles. So how in the hell do you three land in my _backyard_ off of a _random_ occurrence?"

"We're just as baffled as you are," said Aidan.

"My life is basically becoming one unexplained phenomenon after another," said Albus. "Just before we got here, I picked up a sword that's supposed to be enchanted so that only a Squib can move it."

Alec and Aidan looked at him.

Albus reached for his suitcase, and opened it up. He extracted the Sandblood sword.

"Whoa, nifty," said Alec. "Is it goblin?"

"Goblin-made, yeah," said Albus. "Here… Try to pick it up."

He placed it on the table. Alec immediately reached for the handle, and gingerly tugged. Then he yanked. The sword didn't budge.

Aidan tried next, and then Lucas. None of them could shift it even slightly.

"Weird," said Lucas, as Albus put the sword back in his bag.

"You didn't tell us you were Thor," said Aidan.

"That he was who?" said Alec.

"It's a reference to… Never mind."

"Well," said Lucas, "regardless of the inexplicability of the circumstances… it's nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too," said Albus. "I don't know if there's anyone's backyard I would rather have landed in."

"Draxler Cordot's, maybe?" said Aidan, chuckling.

Lucas tilted his head. "Who?"

"Draxler Cordot?" repeated Aidan. "He was a famous magical theorist. He invented—hey, wait, we can tell Lucas about this now!"

Albus looked up sharply.

"No Fidelius Charm?" asked Lucas, leaning in. "I'm all ears."

Aidan looked instinctively to Albus.

Desulgon's face drifted into Albus's vision, shaking his head _no_ as if disapproving of Albus telling anyone else about the Devoctrices…

"He already proved he wasn't an imposter, down at the riverbank," said Aidan. "And if Wilcox had ears here, he would have been here by now."

Albus had already made his decision before that, though. He had used his basic aura-reading skills to determine that it was definitely Lucas talking to them.

"_Muffliato,_" said Albus, concealing the conversation just between the four of them. "Let's tell him. Everything."

O

Albus finally stopped talking. Everything he could think of to say had been said. He waited for Lucas to respond.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Well," he said.

He didn't continue.

"It's a lot to take in," said Aidan. "Any initial thoughts?"

"A few, but they're short thoughts consisting mostly of cuss words," said Lucas. "When one of the first things you said after arriving was that Wilcox had just tried to kill you, it took me a while to internalize it… I think I'm going to need a few weeks to internalize the full extent of what you just told me."

"We don't have a few weeks," said Aidan. "We have a little over two days until Albus turns seventeen. We shouldn't be anywhere within Wilcox's reach when he does."

"But… where can you go where he won't find you?" asked Lucas.

Albus chuckled to himself. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get to the, er, moon, would you?"

Aidan and Alec started.

"The moon?" asked Lucas. "You think Professor Desulgon went back there after he went crazy?"

"I don't know about that, but if that's where his laboratory is, then it might be a good place to hide out," said Albus. "Right? Wilcox could find us anywhere in the world, but if we were on the moon, maybe he couldn't find us… That's how Professor Desulgon escaped his sight, and maybe we'd find clues in his lab. Hell, maybe we'd find _him._"

"Right," said Lucas. "I'll just get out my moon rocket, then?"

"No way, you have a moon rocket?!" gasped Alec, missing the sarcasm as usual.

"Maybe worry about that after the rest of your crazy plans have been laid out," said Lucas. "So there's this shadow engine thing that's going to destroy the Muggles, and that was, I assume, your next phase of attack after you got the cure for the Marionette's Medicine from the Fokii?"

"The Shadow's Engine thing was actually brand-new information," said Albus. "Alec and Aidan found out about it at exactly the same time you did."

He looked up at the clock. It was already past noon after all the explaining had been done—or, rather, all the explaining that he _could_ do.

He had been able to freely discuss everything that _Wilcox_ had told him about the Shadow's Engine… but not what _Eftan_ had told him. The others still didn't know about Eftan. And while he could have explained Eftan being his half-brother if he'd wanted, it would have been worse for them to hear that out of context, considering they still thought Eftan was evil.

But he and Eftan had no way of contacting each other—only if Albus happened to be holding the mirror at exactly the same time that Eftan said his name into the other mirror. And how likely was that to happen by accident?

About the same likelihood as them landing in Lucas's backyard, he supposed.

But as he thought for longer about their current predicament, he began to formulate a plan in his head. If he could reestablish that first connection with Eftan, then they could schedule more, and they could restart their frequent correspondence. It would really help him to have eyes and ears inside Hogwarts. Especially considering that they had no idea where the Shadow's Engine could be.

"We need to leave as soon as possible to get to the Forbidden Forest and find the Fokii," said Albus. "Let's rest here for a _little_ while, but we should leave before it's morning in Europe. Get to the Fokii while it's night there, and away before it's light outside. Because we'll still need to figure out a way to get to the moon after that, and we only have two days until I turn seventeen."

"Then let's get talking," said Aidan. "The Fokii… Remember that weird flower that the Fokii was carrying, that disappeared when it touched the ground?"

"I was thinking the same thing on my walk back," said Albus.

"I never understand how you two remember every tiny detail that happens," said Alec, shaking his head.

"I've actually been doing meditation to strengthen my mind's ability to make connections like that," said Aidan, pointing to his head.

"Oh, that was meditation you were always doing when you were sitting weirdly still in the tent?" asked Alec. "I always thought you were just sleeping sitting up."

"I do some of that too," said Lucas.

"American meditation is crap," said Aidan.

Lucas swelled like an angry blowfish. "Why does everyone say that?!"

"It's not the time to joke anymore, guys," said Albus quietly.

The three other boys all looked at Albus.

"I'm sorry, but it isn't," said Albus. "We can laugh when this is all over, but right now let's get back to the details."

"Fine, IMW, we'll take the no-nonsense approach," said Alec.

"IMW," said Albus, "got a lot done. I think it's a huge compliment that you're making comparisons between us."

Aidan grimaced. "Albus… I'd be careful how much you take after him, all right? Look what it got him. And I'm a bit worried about you after that incident you had with the sludge down in the Hourglass Empire… In fact, even more worried after what you've told us about the sword. I hope that the reason you can pick up the Squib sword… isn't that you're becoming inhuman like Dismiusa."

Albus blinked. "I don't… _feel_ inhuman…"

"Make sure you don't go too far down that path," warned Aidan. "Anyway… as we were saying… That flower that the Fokii was carrying? It had a twisting green stem with a little red flower on top, right? Maybe it was delivering that to the dungeons because that flower can help cure the Marionette's Medicine. The Fokii could have been taking it down to the dungeons to get Dismiusa out of Wilcox's control."

"Maybe they even succeeded eventually," said Albus. "Wilcox said Dismiusa eventually began to resist the effects. The Fokii might have successfully gotten her the flower, and that's why he lost control."

"But you don't even know that the cure for MM is what Desulgon meant by 'The Fokii know,'" said Lucas. "This is still all guesswork, right?"

"It's the best guesswork we've got, and it makes a lot of sense," said Albus.

Suddenly, the window shattered.

All four of them had their wands spun towards the window in an instant. But it wasn't a spell—it was a rock. The offending stone tumbled along the floor into Lucas's foot. He passed a hand over it, assumedly checking it for spells, and came up shaking his head.

"What the hell?!" asked Lucas. "If there's someone around the property who shouldn't be, there's an alarm that's supposed to go off!"

"An alarm?" said Albus, suddenly jumping to a conclusion that couldn't be true… could it?

"Yes, it's how I found you three in the river!"

"So whoever threw that rock in the window… didn't set off the alarm."

"They're good with magical concealment," whispered Aidan. "It can't be… _Wilcox,_ can it?"

"Why a rock, then?" said Alec, making a strange face. "Did he lose his mind? More than usual?"

"No," breathed Albus. "But we _do_ know someone even _more_ talented at magical concealment… who _did_ lose his mind."

The others were all struck silent—so silent that they heard a soft manic giggling drifting in through the window.

"Professor Desulgon!" blurted Alec, running to the smashed window. "Professor Desulgon! Are you here?!"

"If you need me," responded a high-pitched, sing-song voice pervaded with glee, "just call my codename!"

Albus's breath hitched. It was something Desulgon had said to him before the incidents had all occurred. "It's him!" he exclaimed, running to the window next to Alec.

"Professor Desulgon!" cried Alec out the window. "Where are you?!"

"Hush!" hissed Aidan. "Not so loud for the world to hear!"

"Professor Desulgon isn't here!" called a voice back. "Only me, a humble bush!"

Alec leapt out the window and charged towards the bush.

"Alec, _stop!_" yelled Aidan. "It could be a trap, what if someone found Desulgon and bewitched him? He wouldn't have had much defense against it—"

"He said to call his codename!" responded Alec. "And both Albus and I said his codename right before the rock happened! IMW!"

"Hey, that's me! I mean—nope, just bushes here!"

Desulgon's voice sounded like the voice adults put on when they played with three-year-olds. Albus leapt out the window after Alec and followed Alec to the hedges lining the front of Lucas's house. If Desulgon really was here… He could leave at any moment, being in his crazed state. They needed to talk to him as much as they could while he was still apparently hanging out here.

Alec stopped, and Albus almost ran into him. When Albus saw why he'd stopped, he stopped a guttural gasp and stared.

Their old Transfiguration teacher was curled up in a ball, his head placed on the ground, next to an uprooted bush that he was apparently pretending to be.

"I am IMW!" he roared. "Master of disguise!"

Albus grimaced at Alec, but then decided there was no time to waste. If Desulgon had disappeared so quickly last time…

"Professor," he said, "when you said 'The Fokii know…' did you mean—"

"Hey!" yelped Desulgon, jumping up. "I said that!"

"I know," said Albus calmly. He didn't want to accidentally offend Desulgon, especially when the man was in this state, prone to emotions while his intellect was dull. If Desulgon had any emotions anymore, that was. And they couldn't restrain him—Desulgon was far more powerful than them, and there was no telling the damage he could do if he suddenly felt threatened, with his inhibited mind but uninhibited power.

"Did you mean that the Fokii know the cure for the Marionette's Medicine?" asked Albus slowly.

Desulgon clapped giddily. "Oh—you got it, you got it! Hooray for riddles!"

"Tell us more riddles," said Aidan as he ran into the scene; Albus knew he was capitalizing on something that Desulgon clearly understood and by which he seemed to currently be captivated.

Desulgon's eyes glinted. "Ooh, more riddles?" He furrowed his brow. "What's the difference… between… a poop… and… and… my butt?"

Albus looked over at Aidan, who smacked a hand on his forehead. "Professor," he said, "I meant riddles about—"

"MY BUTT CAN FART!" howled Desulgon in laughter, just as he demonstrated the aforementioned action loudly.

The four boys stared at him as he doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach and laughing so hard he was barely breathing; his pale face turned pink.

"A poop can't fart!" announced Desulgon like he was revealing a great truth. "A poop can't fart—a poop is like a _solid_ fart, actually…"

"How about some riddles about Professor Wilcox?" said Alec.

Desulgon frowned, and quickly his face clouded over as he thought more and more about Alec's request.

"I don't like that man," said Desulgon. "He's a solid fart, too."

"Apt description," said Lucas, "but maybe some riddles that tell us… how to get to the moon? Or something?"

"Jump," giggled Desulgon. "As hard as you can! Or a cannon! Or a magical space whale…"

"Professor," interrupted Albus, "how about your riddle about 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil?' I didn't get that riddle."

"Ooh," said Desulgon, crinkling his nose. "But if I did that then I wouldn't be so happy. I would be back to being alone and not licking people's elbows while trying not to get noticed."

Albus's suspicions were, he assumed, confirmed—this was regarding a cure to the Chaos Contagion.

"So it's a cure?" he said, a little too demanding, and he regretted it as Desulgon glared at him. "What—what does it mean, exactly, though?" he asked, a little more kindly. "If you tell us, we'll…"

"Fart with you," said Alec sincerely.

"No thank you, I only like my own," said Desulgon, giggling again. "And silly Albus! Isn't it obvious?"

"No," said Albus. "I'm very silly and I didn't get the riddle."

"Silly Albus!" laughed Desulgon. "I thought you already knew it! You have to try harder!"

Albus folded his arms. "I don't think _you_ know the answer," he said complacently.

Desulgon glared at him again.

Alec hit him hard in the arm, but Albus tried not to react. He kept up his act.

"I do too!" said Desulgon. "I do too know how to cure the Chaos Contagion!"

"Then prove it," pushed Albus. "I don't think you do."

"I do too!" repeated Desulgon, in more of a snappish tone. "I most certainly do! You have to find a blind person and a deaf person and a mute person. And they have to all touch your soul at the same time. And then you're cured and boring again!"

Albus's eyes and fingers were twitching with excitement, as he tried his hardest to think of ways to continue the conversation on Desulgon's level—

"Do you want to—come inside?" asked Aidan. "We could… play a game or something…"

"No, bushes don't _go_ indoors," moaned Desulgon, curling up on the turf again. "I'll just stay here and grow, and hope it rains so I don't get all brown and dry."

"Professor Desulgon," said Lucas, his eyes lighting up, "I have a potion inside… that will turn you into a _real_ bush!"

Desulgon leapt up ten feet in the air with excitement and landed on all fours in front of Lucas like a begging dog. "Oh _please!_" he squealed. "Oh _please, please, please!_"

"Of course," said Lucas. "I'll go get it—you stay right here like a good bush, okay?"

Desulgon ran back to his patch of soil and waited patiently.

Lucas returned with about a gallon of potion in a huge unmarked glass—probably to avoid Desulgon actually reading the label. Albus tried to think from Lucas's mind; his parents probably had a lot of mind-sharpening potions around, and maybe Lucas was thinking it would give Desulgon his mind back, even temporarily.

Desulgon suddenly disappeared and reappeared behind Lucas, snatching the glass right out of his hand; Lucas yelped and stumbled, and Desulgon giggled again. He downed the entire gallon of potion in just a few seconds, and outstretched his arms as he Apparated back to his dirt patch.

"Real bush!" he declared. "Here I come! I've been waiting for this day ever since I came out as a bush to my parents eleventeen years ago!"

His smile slowly faded.

He turned around to face Albus directly.

"This isn't going to last long, not even a dose that large, this is a powerful contagion," he said, suddenly in his normal voice, and Albus literally jumped with joy until he internalized what Desulgon had said. "It won't last long enough for me to cure myself permanently and I'll be mad at you when I revert back, so be quiet and pay attention."

The four boys nodded.

"I got to the moon with a transport device that I constructed with the help of Dodecus Tytezian," he said, speaking incredibly rapidly. "You can find Dodecus in the Australian outback and you should use a Hocus-Focuser to find him because he moves but he carries our transport with him and it's a Devoctrix. You should definitely go and you will find a lot of resources there to help you. Don't use Muggle transportation if you can help it because it's slow and if you're tracked before your destination you usually can't divert or disembark Muggle transportation so easily and Wilcox has a lot of random Muggles under MM for no reason other than to keep an eye out for you. As for the cure, use Parker Pullman, Kayla Reagan, and Aethan Maddox to cure Albus, and me if you can manage it. You can trust all three and I promise that, and you can find them all at the same place which is Hogwarts. You'll need a captive Dementor and you'll need it to suck your soul almost all the way out so that the three in question can literally touch his soul. It's the only way I currently know to extract a soul to let that happen. The Fokii know the cure to MM and they'll give it to you willingly if you let them know you're trying to defeat Wilcox because he imprisoned their master and they want revenge and you should deliver it to Harry because he's working with Draco Malfoy to refine the cure for MM and it'll complete his recipe. Werora the ocean spirit of legend is actually a real woman with the Chaos Contagion who mastered the Superstorm Devoctrix and she recently conquered the island of Ilka and is ruling there under the careful watch of Wilcox who is hoping to learn her secrets and it would be devastating if he did. You can recharge the Bloodblade by putting it into a Catalyst that Swait created and kept in his shop but Wilcox stole it and I wouldn't let that knife fall into the wrong hands now that Wilcox can recharge it and there's a picture of that Catalyst at my moon base if you want to know what it looks like. Wilcox has two Horcruxes and I don't know where either of them is but two people may know where they are because Wilcox made them a long time ago before he was powerful enough to operate on his own and needed their help so he may have told either Auchland or Siobor, but Siobor is still in Azkaban and Wilcox isn't even planning to free him because he's furious at Siobor's failures and Siobor isn't as effective now that he's been declawed which means that Siobor might be mad enough at Wilcox in return to reveal the location if you can manage to get to him in Azkaban and you're all the BIGGEST RANCIDLY FARTING BUTTS I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED AND YOU LIED TO ME ABOUT THE POTION!"

Desulgon stood with his teeth clamped together, breathing heavily and furiously. All four of his audience stood slack-jawed at the revelations, until Desulgon ripped out his wand.

In a flat second, Albus, Aidan, and Alec were all blasted backwards, out of the fight, but Lucas was more of the subject of Desulgon's fury since he was the one who lied about the potion. Desulgon pummeled him with a barrage of painful-looking curses for a few seconds, and then blasted half of Lucas's house away and vanished just as the other three pulled themselves together and were about to join.

Lucas was absolutely covered in gashes and burns, his legs and his arms were all bent in the wrong directions, and his tongue was perpetually on fire and he was having no success trying to put it out. He whimpered in extreme pain as Aidan filled his mouth with water, and the fire went out; as soon as he spat it back out, his tongue caught fire again, and the next time Aidan filled his mouth with water, he didn't spit it out.

"Really, really sorry about that," said Albus, grimacing.

Lucas shook his head _no,_ and tried to enunciate something through a closed mouth full of water.

"I'm getting zero percent of what you're trying to say," said Albus. "Can I Connect us?"

Lucas nodded, and Albus cast a Connectivity Charm between them.

_It's okay,_ thought Lucas to him. _It was worth it, completely. Did you hear all of that crazy new information we just got?!_

_Yeah, that was excellent,_ thought Albus, _and perfectly timed. Still, your house…_

_It's okay. You know what? Take all the gold inside my family's vault—I'll tell you how to get in. And our stock of potions, too—_

_Lucas, no, that's way too much!_

_It's for the war effort, it's my contribution. I have to help you any way I can. I don't think I'll be accompanying you to the Forbidden Forest… definitely not in this state. Oh FUCK, this hurts so much. FUCK._

_Still, it's your parents' stuff, won't they notice it's missing?_

_Albus, half of the house is gone. And it's probably better that way—then I can more easily pass this off as a robbery, to explain my injuries and the damage. Okay? My parents don't need that stuff, they're rich. Hell, maybe this'll actually get them to think about family for once. But someone may have noticed the explosion and possibly could contact my parents soon if they see what happened here—so get the stuff and GO!_

Albus explained Lucas's request to Aidan and Alec, and they pillaged the rich household for anything useful they could find—potions, spell books, excellent quality brooms, even tins of Floo powder, and a stock of glowing gold Galleons, for which Lucas gave Albus specific instructions for accessing his family's safe in the basement. They left the smoldering ruin of Lucas's house.

"Are you sure you're okay with us just leaving you in this state?" said Aidan. "I'm really sorry… I'd heal you more if I could, but I'm not as great with healing theory and I don't want to make anything worse."

_Just go,_ thought Lucas to Albus, and he tried to force a smile through his pain and bulging cheeks. _I'll be okay. You won't be if you stay, though. Take your brooms and find yourselves some transportation to Hogwarts so you can get to the Forbidden Forest._

"Can do," said Albus. "Thank you, so much. We'll return this stuff after the—"

_GO!_

Albus gestured to Aidan and Alec, and they mounted the brooms they'd stolen and cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves, given that it was still broad daylight. They sailed off, out of Lucas's property, not daring to Disapparate in case it could be tracked.

O

"So that was a nice foreboding drop-in," said Alec. "The first friend we stumble upon out here, we leave his house and body in a wreck and steal everything he owns. Let's try to avoid that the next time we pay someone a visit."

Albus didn't respond. His brain was whirring with the new information, combining it with the old information as they set up some temporary defensive spells near their position in the forest. He tried to check back in with Lucas, but they were far enough away that the Connectivity Charm had broken by this point. He hoped Lucas was all right after the ordeal.

"At least we're sure about the Fokii now," said Aidan. "Because I was beginning to worry about the riskiness of the trip combined with the uncertainty."

"Riskiness?"

"Think about it," said Aidan. "Wilcox may be keeping an eye on Hogwarts as closely as anywhere else. I'm concerned that we may be noticed even before we leave. We don't just need a way _into_ the Forbidden Forest… we also need a quick escape route."

"Actually… I think I have one," said Albus.

"A way in? Or a way out?"

"Both," said Albus, laughing as it suddenly clicked inside his head.

As they tended to do now, Alec and Aidan recoiled slightly when Albus laughed. He'd been so serious lately that they were starting to worry any sign of joy was turning him into something like the state in which they'd seen Desulgon.

"I can't believe I didn't think about this earlier," said Albus. "In my—in our fifth year, you remember when I was possessed by Herpo the Foul…?"

"Oh, right, I totally _forgot_ about that," said Aidan, rolling his eyes.

Alec looked Aidan's way, utterly bemused. "How can you remember what the Fokii's flower looked like, and forget that Albus was _possessed?!_"

"Well… that was the first Devoctrix I ever used," said Albus. "I wasn't myself when I was using it, of course, but I created a portal between Herpo's lair in Greece and the Forbidden Forest."

"You think you can repeat the feat?" asked Aidan, wide-eyed. "But, Albus… your eye."

"No, I'm not saying I could do it again," said Albus. "I might be able to copy the arm motions if I studied my memory, but I have no idea how to make a portal that'll lead to any specific place I choose. But what I'm saying is—Herpo was known as one of the first people to unlock portal magic of that potential. It was said that his portals would stay open until they were used… They could transport seven individuals, exactly seven, before closing forever. But I was only _one_ person. So if the three of us went to Greece… We could take the portal straight to the middle of the Forbidden Forest, and then take the portal back—and the portal would close behind us; that would be seven!"

"You're saying we go to Herpo the Foul's lair?" asked Alec nervously.

"Well… I suppose he would have cleared out by now," said Aidan. "He wouldn't stay right there, especially if the Aurors know that as his lair. But in that case, the Aurors might be keeping an eye on it."

"We'll be in and out fast," said Albus. "If I study my memory, I should know how to activate the portal again. Hopefully."

He tightened his lips for a moment as he thought. "Actually… it may be underwater. I made a crater out of Herpo's hideout and then Katarina Pinzel's daughter made a lake out of the crater."

"Maybe that means the Aurors don't expect anyone to come back, especially after a year and a half," said Alec hopefully. "And besides, most of the Aurors are probably still good."

"We don't have any idea how many are with Wilcox, honestly," said Aidan.

"After Wilcox turned out to be evil," agreed Albus, "all bets were off."

He tapped a finger against his chin as he thought. How to get to Greece undetected, though? Maybe it would be easier, since he wasn't joined by Sandbloods who were probably being watched by Wilcox the whole time… also, Wilcox probably wouldn't be expecting Albus to go to Greece. Why would he?

"There's a train station in Athens," said Albus. "We took it to get to the Quidditch World Cup there. And I think we were actually pretty close to Athens when we were in Herpo's lair, from discussions I had with my dad afterwards about Herpo the Foul."

"I've always wanted to take magical rail across an ocean!" said Alec with a grin.

"Well, yeah, everyone does," said Aidan, but he wasn't grinning. "That's because only super-rich business executives travel that way. No one's going to believe a ragtag team of three schoolkids have the money to actually take the fast rail that we're talking about, let alone have a good reason for doing so. Even if we do have the money now. If we took the cheap rail, we might not even arrive before Albus's birthday."

"Wait," said Alec. "Wait! I've got it! Hey, that LSL internship really did pay off for me. I got another good idea!"

"I hope it's not 'taking the LSL,'" said Albus. "I bet it's been taken over by Wilcox by now… he probably had Salvo and Milo replaced, or killed."

"No, but Milo told me about the rails," said Alec. "He said super-rich guys go on the train for business trips and hire whores to keep them company."

Aidan crinkled up his nose and eyes. "So… exactly what part of that gave you an idea for a plan?"

"We should dress up as prostitutes and join the business execs!" said Alec excitedly.

"Oh, lord," mumbled Aidan.

"Hey, we have to get disguised again anyway," said Alec. "Why not?"

"What would we tell them once we're onboard?" said Albus, cracking a smile despite himself.

"I don't know, I figured we'd take care of that once we were on," mumbled Alec. "Getting on is probably the hard part."

"There's a rail station in Boston," said Aidan. "Come on… Let's go there and see how else we could get on board without raising any suspicions. Maybe we'll pick something up if we hang around the station."

"Yeah, like black lung," said Alec. "I've been to Boston with the LSL and it's a hellhole."

"You haven't been to magical Boston, have you," said Aidan, smirking.

"Have _you?_" asked Alec.

"Yes," said Aidan. "My grandpa was into the World Wizarding Renaissance Faire. Boston is where it's always held."

"Is that going on right now?" asked Albus.

"No, that's always in the fall," said Aidan. "You both should see it sometime when we make it out of this mess… It's so grand, all of it. People dress up like they used to hundreds of years ago, and there's all these crazy foods and traditions that come back…"

"We'll make that world happen again," said Albus. "Let's get to Boston now, then. No time to waste… We want to be in and out of the forest before light."

"The fastest train would be the most expensive one," said Aidan. "It's a long trip by train, still; it's overnight travel. About a nine hour journey…"

"We didn't miss the train, did we?" asked Alec.

"No, but I have no idea when it leaves," said Aidan. "So we shouldn't chance any more hanging around… if we miss it, the next one doesn't come around for 24 hours."

They mounted their brooms and cast the Disillusionment Charms again, and lifted off to head towards the direction in which they knew Boston to be.

"Do you think saying Desulgon's code name again will summon him again?" asked Alec.

"Do we _want_ to?" asked Aidan.

"I don't know," said Albus. "But if we do that again, we should be ready for him. With a Dementor and the three people he was talking about. If we got him back on our side…"

"We'd have nothing to worry about," finished Alec.

"I wouldn't go that far," said Aidan. "Wilcox is exactly like what Desulgon would be if he were evil. Do we even know which of them is more powerful?"

"We'll probably find out soon," suggested Albus. "But we can't rely on him for everything—we can't let ourselves think that if we save Desulgon's mind, then we automatically win. We need to be ready for anything."

"But it would help," said Alec.

Albus sighed. "Yeah," he said. "It would absolutely, definitely help."


	8. The Fokii's Flower

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE FOKII'S FLOWER

O

"A lot of these people look like…"

"Muggles," said Alec, finishing Albus's thought.

"Hm," said Aidan. "I haven't been here since before the Global Revelation, actually, but, interesting that there are a lot of Muggles around magical Boston."

"It was a court case," said an unfamiliar voice behind them.

They jumped and turned around to see a bulky man twirling a gold wristwatch around his finger. He smiled at the three boys; Albus was glad they already picked up slight disguises on the way to the rail station. His teeth were weirdly white, and his brown hair was slicked back, where it ran past his neck.

"Court case a few years back determined there was no just cause for Muggles to be kept out of magical Boston, so they were allowed in grudgingly," said the stranger. "But it's proven to be just peachy for business. Now, no offense, but you don't sound like yourselves are from around here. Skipping the pond in the wake of the British shitstorm?"

Aidan nodded, and Albus and Alec followed.

"That country," laughed the man, "has had more than their fair share of magical craziness. I'd stay out of there if I were you. Hey, the name's Heath Grommet, and it's good to meet all of you."

He held out his hand to shake the hands of all three boys, and Albus couldn't help but thinking that this man's life was probably doomed now that he'd made contact with them. But the man didn't walk away, and Albus wondered what he wanted.

"Got any folks with you in the area?" he asked, looking between them.

"No sir," said Aidan. "Our families are back home. We're just traveling around the world during our summer."

"This one's your little ringleader, I can tell," said Heath, pointing to Aidan with a smirk. "Say, if you're just wandering around, how about a quick little detour? It's a lovely day for a train ride…"

Albus tilted his head.

"What do you mean?" asked Aidan.

Heath reached into his pocket and pulled out a little business card, which he tossed to Aidan. Aidan opened it, and Albus and Alec peered at it over his shoulder. It read,

_Heath A. Grommet_

_CEO, Potion Potential Inc._

_Brewing up history since 1737_

"I've been looking for some test subjects to come with me," said Heath. "If you're looking for funds for the rest of your summer world travels—which by the state of your robes and shoes, is probably a yes—then join me on the train ride! It's leaving in a half hour. I'll cover your fare for a round trip—that's twenty-four hours of travel—and we'll just give you a few Potions that recently came out of development. Our little tests are harmless and you'll be over and done by the time we leave the train in eight hours or so, free to go wherever you'd like—but now with a pocket bulging with cash for your help, and you can keep the other sixteen hours if you ever want to take the train again!"

Albus didn't like the aura he was feeling off of this man. Aura-reading hadn't been of much use when they'd been mostly alone for so long, but he was beginning to remember why he'd asked Parker for basic training. This man was a con artist, or something worse. The aura he was getting was so vile it didn't even seem human.

"Wow," said Aidan. "I think we'd—"

"No thanks," said Albus sternly, elbowing Aidan. "But we appreciate the offer."

He hoped his friends would understand that he had some reason. Their system of blind trust took action, as Aidan and Alec nodded curtly to Heath.

"Sorry," said Aidan, "but we're not really looking to go back across the sea just yet."

"Then we can run the tests here, if you'd prefer," said Heath, straightening his stance. "I'm offering you a lot more money than you think…"

"No thank you," said Alec, "but your creepy persistence is admirable."

Heath furrowed his brow.

Albus left Heath where he was standing, and Aidan and Alec followed swiftly.

"Something was wrong with him," said Albus. "I got a horrid aura off him."

"Albus," said Aidan, "I know we have a system of trust here, but… What is Heath going to say if he then sees us on the train to Athens with him after we just rejected his offer to pay our way onboard?"

"I don't know," said Albus, grimacing hard on that one. "But thank you for trusting me. Something would have gone wrong. We don't want to be subjecting ourselves to experimental potions…"

"That I agree with," said Aidan. "Still…"

"Maybe we could disguise ourselves more, or entirely differently…"

"The train leaves in half an hour," said Aidan, "and we still don't have tickets."

"At least it didn't already leave," said Alec.

"To hell with _looking weird_ doing it," said Albus. "Let's just buy the tickets. We have the money."

"Hey, let's take on characters like the ones Heath assumed from us," suggested Alec. "We're three world-travelers. Maybe our parents are super-rich and super-irresponsible and just left us a boatload of cash for the summer and we're spending it incredibly wastefully."

"You know what, let's do it," said Aidan, shrugging. "I got nothing else better. I guess we don't actually need a plan for every little thing like getting on a train."

"Let's get drunk first to play the part better," said Alec. "Spoiled rich kids like us would probably drink before we got on the train."

"Last time I drank didn't go so well," said Albus. "I kissed five people and they all ended up possessed. Let's just buy the tickets."

"No—first, suits," said Aidan. "Or otherwise nice formal wear. So they don't question us carrying around a fortune with us while we look like we live in cardboard boxes."

"I don't like interacting with any more people than necessary," said Albus. "What if they recognize us?"

"Shoot, and what if there's a customs search or something before we get on the train?"

"For the love of Merlin, guys," said Alec. "We're just _buying train tickets!_"

Eventually, they settled on a solution: Aidan bought himself a suit and got Albus and Alec nicer robes while he was in the store, and Aidan paid for their tickets, acting the rich friend. There was no customs search, just a quick scan to make sure there was no Dark magic or objects or anything like that with them.

"Yeah, having magic aboard a train at all kind of ruins the point of searching for other dangers," said Alec, raising an eyebrow as they passed some people who were holding signs and shouting, apparently protesting the rail's prices.

Albus abruptly felt a roil in his gut, and he knew it was because a familiarly sickening aura had entered his awareness.

"Don't look to your left," said Albus quietly. "Look away, don't let him see our faces. It's that Heath guy."

Aidan and Alec still snuck peeks, and despite himself, Albus did too. A young boy and young girl, not even Albus's age, trailed behind Heath, holding each others' hands. They followed Heath into a special cabin for the first-class passengers, who were boarding early. The rest of the passengers started boarding shortly after, and Albus relaxed his shoulders when Heath disappeared without catching sight of them.

Instantly upon stepping into the train, he knew why this was a high-class transport used almost exclusively by the wealthiest members of society. The train was only maybe ten feet wide on the outside, but it had to be a half-mile across on the inside. On the way to the cabins, they passed through a plaza jam-packed with businesses, like a full-fledged city inside the train. There were bars, gyms, five-star restaurants, Jacuzzi tubs, saunas, massage parlors, arcades, Muggle-style movie theaters, drama theaters, dance clubs, a full-size shopping mall, and multiples of every other conceivable luxury, all inside the train. As they walked to the hallway hosting the cabins, they passed a beach—literally, an entire beach, with a sun, shore, sand, and even several islands with coconut trees floating out in the distance. An ice cream truck was driving from end to end on the beach. And everything in here came with the ticket price.

"Oh man, I don't even know what I'm going to do first," said Alec, drooling at the sight of everything.

"Nothing," said Albus, quietly but sternly. "We should be seen as little as possible. Especially given the unnerving guy on board who would be very surprised to see us."

"What would he do?" said Alec, throwing his hands in the air. "Come on, Albus, our first and probably last chance in forever to have some fun and relax without worrying about time, since the trip is nine hours long no matter what we do—and you want us to not take advantage of that?"

"To answer your first question, he could raise a fuss, make a scene, causing other people to look over and causing someone to recognize us," said Albus. "What part of taking no chances didn't you understand? Did you decide to come with me because you suspected a beach day might be one of the perks of our mission?"

Alec grumbled, but it was a defeated grumble.

"This is us," said Aidan, checking the code that was stamped on their ticket as they came to a set of larger cabins for groups of three. "Cabin 3-BV. We're listed for a round trip, incidentally, if we want to hop the train again someday…" He winked.

"I wouldn't say no after this is all over, if we want to visit Lucas in style," said Albus, as they stepped inside the cabin.

It was like an actual house inside their cabin, a high-ceilinged four-story luxury home with a crystal chandelier, scented candles, beautiful furnishings and everything else you could want in a home, just like there was everything you could want in a city outside their door. It was almost an insult to call it a "cabin."

"So, I understand why all this is great," said Alec, "but… seriously… Why would anyone pay the ridiculous sum needed to get on board, when you can just take the LSL? The Liner can get you anywhere you want to be… and only in twelve hours!"

"Because then you'd have to consort with commoners," said Aidan.

"Is that really the reason this train still exists?" asked Albus, still marveling over their cabin. "So that rich people can live in a world of their own?"

"It literally is," said Aidan. "If there were more demand for something like the LSL, then there would be more ships out there like the LSL. But there's only one, because most of the people who do world traveling like to take the rails. If you're on a business venture, and you're discussing transportation, saying 'I took the Loch Stock Liner' is like saying you're dirt-poor."

"The Liner is expensive by comparison to most other things in life, though," said Albus.

"I never argued against that," said Aidan. "But this is way out of the Liner's league. Saying you took the Overseas Rapid Rail is an instant stamp under your name that reads 'upper-class,' and you get a lot of respect right off the bat."

"That seems like it's a system purposefully designed to keep the upper class upper, and the lower class lower."

"Now you understand why there were all those protestors outside the rail station," said Aidan with a slight smirk. "Also, I don't want to criticize the Liner or anything, but it _does_ kind of alienate people who don't speak English. A few of the crew members speak other languages, and communication isn't really important except for the destination, but it's still a little discouraging for foreigners."

"_Train departing in five minutes,"_ said a soft female voice, followed by translations in dozens of different languages—so many that for the last few languages, they had changed the departure time to four minutes.

"Hey, nice," said Alec, plopping himself down on the comfortable-looking couch and swiping up a magazine from the low table next to him. "Movie itinerary… Awesome! They've got some great stuff playing."

"So the train will be leaving at right about 2:00, eastern U.S. time," said Aidan, checking his watch. "It should arrive in Greece nine hours after that, and we can hopefully get to the site and make our next transport as soon as possible. Let's round that to ten hours, then…"

"Sweet!" exclaimed Alec. "An _Avengers_ movie marathon! All four of them! …What're Avengers? It sounds cool."

Aidan rolled his eyes. "With the time change," he said, ignoring Alec, "if we can get to the forest within an hour of arriving in Athens, then we'll be there before 5:00. Bear in mind that 5:00 is about the time of the sunrise."

"Then we'll have to hurry," said Albus. His face lit up. "Hey… do you think there's a Pensieve anywhere on this train?"

Aidan snatched a magazine out of Alec's hands; Alec complained loudly as Aidan flipped to the glossary.

"Believe it or not, there is," said Aidan. "And it's for public access. Unbelievable… this place has everything. But I assume these are memories that you wouldn't want to leave hanging around inside the Pensieve after we get off the train?"

"Can you take back memories from a Pensieve?"

"Of course," said Aidan. "Just stick the tip of your wand in the basin's surface and think about the memory. Then you can just pull it out."

"I think I'll do that," said Albus, standing up.

"Hey! Hypocrite!" snapped Alec. "Fine, I'm going to the movies."

"No, we're all sticking together," insisted Aidan. "If Albus is going to the Pensieve, then we're both going with him."

Alec groaned.

"Let's go," said Albus, and they walked out with the information magazine.

"Take a left at the Ferris wheel," said Aidan. "We're going to walk under the rollercoaster and the Pensieve is inside the meditation complex right before we reach the climbing mountain with the waterfall."

"Are we even on a train?" asked Alec, laughing. "Did we get killed by that Heath guy and get sent to heaven?"

They passed the Ferris wheel and roller coaster; Albus looked up at the mountain in question, to see hikers actually climbing its steep and rocky sides. There was snow on top of the mountain, and its peak was ten feet below the ceiling of the train, which was about two hundred feet up.

"I read up on the creation of this train once," said Aidan. "This was back in the 1800s, actually—did you know how they did it?"

"I don't care how they did it as long as it's here," laughed Alec.

"You _should_ care," said Aidan. "They had skilled wizards sign a contract for working on the construction, and then kidnapped them and pretended to be Dark wizards who wanted to torture and kill them. They physically assaulted their employees until the employees went into _In Extremis,_ the super boost you get to your magic when your body thinks it might be on its last few breaths. When _In Extremis_ was triggered, they suddenly revealed that it was a set-up… then they immediately promised them enough money to make them never want anything else in their lives if they got to work right away on the train. So while the employees were still under _In Extremis,_ the people in charge of the train's development had them cast the spells to make possible what you see here. Only an extremely powerful magic could make an Undetectable Extension Charm _this_ massive, or create the literal ecosystems you can see here on the mountain, or in the jungles, lakes, and the zoos. So they had to get their employees into _In Extremis…_ but they could only do that by _actually_ making the employees fear for their lives. And then, of course, making them an offer they couldn't refuse even with how pissed off they had to have been after that little stunt was over, because with anything other than 'a lifetime's supply of money,' those workers probably would have never agreed afterwards."

"Well, if that's what it took to get this train up and running, I'm sure there was more happiness in the long run and their suffering was worth it," said Alec, grinning for a moment before his grin suddenly faded. "Or… you know… I _would_ say that, if it didn't sound just like Wilcox when I said that."

"_Train departing from Boston, Massachusetts,_" rang the voice throughout the train, echoing continuously around the enormous cavern of the train's interior. "_Next stops: Chicago, Illinois; Granite Sky, Montana; San Francisco, California. Write your destination on the wall of your cabin if you'd like an alarm when we're about to reach your stop. Call 'Attendant' if you need assistance for any reason. Please mind that magic is not permitted inside the train except in case of emergency. We know you will enjoy your ride._"

"It makes sort of an S shape around North America," explained Aidan as the announcement began repeating in different languages. The train jumped directly to full speed without unbalancing their footing in the slightest. "Started at Mexico City, worms up through Houston, then Miami, and Boston. Then back to the west coast of the United States through Chicago, fueling up by the Granite Sky school, down to San Francisco and back up around through Markspot, Canada. Then through Reykjavík to Europe. We'll snake through London and the Iberian Peninsula and then through Northern Africa, and that's when we'll tag back up to Greece."

"Isn't the Iberian Peninsula in Russia?" asked Alec, looking confused.

"You're thinking of Siberia. Wait—here we are."

He pointed to the edge of the mountain that was pressed up against the side of the train; there was also a small building at the mountain's base.

They slowly entered the building, under a large sign that read _Meditation Complex._ Inside, they could see a few open doors. One led to a room where people were practicing yoga; in another, there was tai chi. A third door led to a room out of which soft, relaxing music was drifting, and people were meditating peacefully; the fourth door had several acupuncturists at work. The fifth door wasn't open, but it was labeled "Pensieve."

They stepped to the door and pushed it open, and a young boy and girl jumped about ten feet in the air, pulled up their pants and sprinted out of the room.

"You don't need to take off your pants to use a Pensieve," said Alec, looking confused again.

"They weren't… Never mind," said Aidan. "Actually, they might have been. I heard some people like to watch memories of themselves doing it while they do it."

"Oh," said Alec. "Gotcha." He frowned.

"What?" said Aidan.

"Nothing," muttered Alec. "Just realized I'm probably going to die a virgin."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. You won't die, and you'll probably get laid like crazy once you've saved the world."

"Don't you ever worry the same thing?" asked Alec.

Aidan blushed.

"Wait, what?!" roared Alec. "Who?!"

"No, please, don't," said Albus, drawing the curtain across the room's lone window. "Let's just do what we came here for. Normal teenage boy talk can resume if we ever actually have normal teenage boy lives."

"I hope they took that memory with them," said Alec.

Albus already knew what the first memory was that he wanted another look at: when Desulgon spilled out whatever was left of his heart, from back at Lucas's. He placed his wand against his forehead, and extracted the memory; he'd been getting better at it recently, and the strand came out fully intact immediately.

"Is that from our most recent encounter with Desulgon?" asked Aidan.

"Yeah," said Albus. "Shall we?"

They all leaned into the Pensieve, and dove into the depths of the memory. Desulgon's words flowed like a surging river over them as they listened for the second time.

"_I got to the moon with a transport device that I constructed with the help of Dodecus Tytezian… You can find Dodecus in the Australian outback… he carries our transport with him… You will find a lot of resources there to help you…"_

Albus flicked his wand on his temple, and the memory paused—a trick he'd learned during their brief stay in the Hourglass Empire from a Pensieve user manual.

"So we need a Hocus-Focuser," said Albus. "Or, at least, that would be nice."

"Who do we know who has one?" asked Aidan.

"Louis does," said Albus. "I'm pretty sure my dad gave him and Gil the good one, too. Less obvious if they're using it than if my dad and the Aurors were."

"Hey!" said Alec. "Didn't you say you still have their business card?"

"We do," said Albus. He fished in one of the pockets in his robes, and pulled out the business card that Louis and Gil had given him. "If I tap this business card, Louis and Gil will feel a tap on their shoulder… I believe it will also alert them to our position."

"That could really come in handy," said Aidan. "We may need some help at some point. We really don't have a way of contacting anyone else."

"At least we know where my dad is," said Albus.

He flicked his wand against his temple again, and the memory resumed.

"_Don't use Muggle transportation if you can help it. Wilcox has a lot of random Muggles under MM to keep an eye out for you…"_

"Do Muggles come on this train?" asked Albus, suddenly alert, pausing the memory again.

"They might," said Alec. "But why would Wilcox waste MM infecting Muggles who live in _Boston?_"

"Because it's near where Lucas lives," said Albus, "and he might suspect we'd go see him?"

"We can't worry about that now," said Aidan. "We're already on the train. And inside this Pensieve is probably the safest place we could be."

"Except for the fact that, you know, Wilcox could take the Pensieve and throw it into a volcano and kill us all if he knew we were in here," said Albus.

"Until such time as we die, let's carry on," said Aidan.

Albus resumed the memory.

"_Use Parker Pullman, Kayla Reagan, and Aethan Maddox to cure Albus, and me if you can manage it. You'll need a captive Dementor and you'll need it to suck your soul almost all the way out so that the three in question can literally touch his soul…"_

"Crazy," said Alec, and Albus paused the memory again. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Well, those three can literally do none of those things. Can't believe that's what it meant. Or that we know three people like that are all at Hogwarts right now!"

"We'll already be at Hogwarts for the Forbidden Forest run," said Aidan, looking in Albus's direction. "Should we risk it?"

"We don't have a Dementor," said Albus.

"I meant picking the people up and bringing them with us," said Aidan.

Albus shook his head. "We go and snatch up three people who each have a different disability? Wilcox doesn't miss a beat and he wouldn't miss that one. Imagine if he figured out what we were doing and found out how to cure his Chaos Contagion. He'd be unstoppable, he could just use Devs whenever he wanted at no cost."

"Okay," said Aidan, "but we do need a plan to do it soon."

"Why?" asked Albus. "It takes a while, doesn't it? For the Contagion to take over? I still feel fine."

"Crazy people don't know they're going crazy," warned Aidan.

"Are you saying I'm crazy right now?" asked Albus, glaring.

"Not fully crazy, but it's not exactly black and white," said Aidan. "What I'm saying is that sometimes, recently, your actions haven't seemed quite… right."

"What do you mean?"

"Your _reactions_ as well as your actions," said Aidan. "I'm talking about things like how you basically killed all three of the top Sandbloods without batting an eye, and left it at that without even addressing the seriousness of what you'd just done. A couple of years ago, Albus, that turn of events would have destroyed you, eaten you from the inside out. It would have tormented your soul. They were bad people, but I thought we still had morals; I thought we still drew the line somewhere. I'm a bit worried about how completely indifferent you were to that, given the kind of man we thought you were."

Albus stared him back down.

"I'm just being honest," said Aidan, holding his hands up. "We have to be honest with each other out here. We're all we've got."

"You're right," said Albus, and deep down, he felt his heart beat a little heavier than normal as he began to take in what Aidan was saying. "No, you're right. I… We should get to that as soon as we can. But I'm not sure we can anytime soon."

"But as soon as we can," reiterated Aidan.

"As soon as we can," repeated Albus.

"As soon as we can, we get it," said Alec, rolling his eyes. "Let's get back to it! I'm gonna miss Avengers 2: Age of Ultrasound."

Albus restarted the memory.

"_The Fokii know the cure to MM and they'll give it to you willingly… You should deliver it to Harry…"_

"The part we're doing now," said Albus. "Think we can arrive in Greece, take the portal to the Forbidden Forest, find the cure from the Fokii, deliver it to my dad in Romania, find Louis and Gil and get the Hocus-Focuser, and get to the moon, all before it's my birthday?"

"Doesn't matter whether or not we think we can," said Alec, shrugging, "because we kind of have to."

"Let's keep going, we can always watch this memory again later," said Aidan.

"_Werora the ocean spirit of legend is actually a real woman with the Chaos Contagion who mastered the Superstorm Devoctrix and she recently conquered the island of Ilka and is ruling there under the careful watch of Wilcox…"_

"This is another part that really fascinated me," said Aidan. "This came out of nowhere for me. But I was thinking, you were talking about that Uzu Chia who had one eye discolored?"

"You think she's a descendent of Werora?" asked Albus.

"It's more than likely," said Aidan. "See, the eye gets passed down through every generation, but the eyes all disappear when the original infected ancestor dies."

"Like how Mia's eyes faded when Dismiusa kicked it!" exclaimed Alec. "Hey, look at that! I contributed something!"

"Correct," said Aidan, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, let me have my moment! Don't roll your eyes at me, you ruined it!"

"Well, Uzu still had her eye recently, before she found the cure to it," said Aidan. "But I don't think she was meant to cure it, because she wasn't the original owner of the contagion. You said it partially backfired and took out her eye. I think that's because the eye is more of a relic of the disease than the disease itself. Like a scab. But weirdly, whatever she did also made her immune to MM." He scratched his head. "Yeah, this one's a real head-scratcher. But anyway, I traced her lineage while you were visiting the Empire's Pensieve. There was a connection between the Chia family and the Flukewater family. You had an article written by a Che Flukewater in that _Eyes Opened_ book. Her ancestry therefore ties back to the Pettigrews on the surface, because there's a connection between the Flukewaters and the Pettigrews; Elspeth Pettigrew was the woman rumored to have become Werora. And Poticand was talking about Uzu's insane great-great-great-grandmother or however many greats it was. I think she was referring to Werora—the insanity being explained by the Chaos Contagion."

"That's some fantastic detective work," said Alec. "Now, what _useful_ things does it tell us?"

Aidan opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it.

"It could definitely prove useful," said Albus. "Who knows, we may end up visiting Ilka sometime. And it's useful to know the stories of Werora are true."

"We'll be passing close by it on our way from Iceland to London," said Aidan. "There's no stop there, but we should be able to see it from the window."

Albus restarted the memory when no one else spoke up.

"_You can recharge the Bloodblade by putting it into a Catalyst that Swait created… but Wilcox stole it… there's a picture of that Catalyst at my moon base if you want to know what it looks like…"_

"Definitely could be useful," said Albus, patting the Bloodblade in his pocket, but he didn't bother pausing it.

"_Wilcox has two Horcruxes… Wilcox made them a long time ago before he was powerful enough to operate on his own… so he may have told either Auchland or Siobor, but Siobor is still in Azkaban… Siobor might be mad enough at Wilcox in return to reveal the location if you can manage to get to him in Azkaban…"_

"That doesn't seem likely, but maybe if we can damage Wilcox's body enough, it could give us enough time to hunt his Horcruxes," said Albus, pausing the memory again.

"There's a lot on the plate," said Aidan, sighing. "I think it's best to focus on one thing at a time."

"Not always," said Albus. "After we get to the moon, we'll need a comprehensive plan of exactly what to do once we get back. We're not going to want to spend time planning and waiting around once we're back down on Earth; we shouldn't stay still for more than half a second at a time once I'm overage. So we'll need to figure out everything we need to do when we get back, and how to do all of it."

"And we need contingency plans, too," said Alec. "Like, what to do if someone's already used up the portal too many times and we can't get through… or if someone's used the portal up completely and we can't use it at all."

Albus squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't think of that. I guess I didn't assume anyone else knew about the portal or could use it and didn't even take that possibility into account…"

"Herpo's servant knows about it and could have used it," said Aidan.

"Why would he need to come to the Forbidden Forest?"

"Unicorn blood?" suggested Alec.

"Fuck, that could actually make sense," said Albus with a grimace. He buried his face in his palms. "This better work…"

"You _do_ know how to work it, right?" asked Aidan.

"I was going to go over my memory of how to do the arm motions," said Albus. "I need to memorize the arm movements, I think. So it's a really good thing we found a Pensieve on board…"

"Might also be useful to study the other Devoctrix you've cast, while we're here," said Aidan. "The Spirit Guard, you know? The Mega-Patronus? In case you need to cast another Miasmus for some reason and we need to ward off a lot of—"

"Dementors!" said Alec. "Duh!"

"I was getting to that," said Aidan tersely.

"No, I mean—that's how we could lure in a Dementor to cure Albus's Chaos Contagion," said Alec. "A Miasmus!"

Albus nodded. "That actually solves a really big problem, of how to _find_ a Dementor," said Albus. "Though it tends to bring a lot of them…"

"Think you could just ask your Guardian Spirit to leave one Dementor alive?" asked Alec.

"Maybe," said Albus. "It seemed like a really intelligent spirit of benevolence. I'll study up on casting the Spirit Guard Devoctrix, then—you guys might want to join me, in case you ever need it."

"Good plan," said Aidan. "Shall we move on to that memory, then?"

"I always wanted to see that one," said Alec. "It sounded really exciting. Do we get to watch you explode the shit out of Varnisse?"

"I have a better question," said Aidan. "Do we get to sleep?"

Albus thought about it for a moment, and realized that he hadn't slept in significantly over twenty-four hours, and wouldn't be going to sleep for a while.

"We don't want to be off our game when we arrive," said Aidan. "We should at least get a little bit of sleep while we have the chance."

"I… never really factored in time to sleep when we were thinking about our schedule," said Albus. "I don't know, though. I really need to know how to cast both these Devs before we arrive…"

"Take some time, practice it, sleep for four hours or so and get back to practice," said Aidan. "Getting actual sleep—not just naps—is good for long-term memory and whatnot."

"All right then, we'll practice and sleep," said Albus. "I agree… We can't be micro-napping in the middle of duels."

Now that they'd finally slowed down and even considered sleep, he suddenly felt extremely tired. A quick glance at Aidan and Alec showed they felt the same.

"You should do the portal thing practice first," yawned Alec, rubbing his eyes.

"Agreed," said Aidan, echoing the yawn. Albus struggled to avoid doing the same.

They sailed out of the Pensieve. Aidan tentatively took out his wand, but he only looked at it.

"I really wish we could cast a Watchman Charm here," said Aidan. "But casting spells is forbidden inside the train…"

"Except in case of emergency," noted Alec. "We're trying to save the world here."

"But they do investigate all uses of magic within the train," said Aidan. "We're best just going to sleep. Our bodies are wired enough that we'll probably wake up if someone coughs in the meditation room."

"You want me to wake you up when I join you, or no?" asked Albus.

"No," said Aidan, "I have a different idea."

He took up a pen that was hovering near the wall, and he wrote _Reykjavík_ on the wall in large letters.

"It'll give us an alarm when we reach Iceland," said Aidan. "That's about half of the train's trip to Greece, I think, so it should give us a little over four hours. And it's the stop before London… I think we should be awake for London, because if something were to go wrong, it would probably be there."

"_Train arriving in Chicago, Illinois,_" rang the voice throughout the train, echoing continuously around the enormous cavern of the train's interior. "_Next stops: Granite Sky, Montana; San Francisco, California; Markspot, Canada._"

"It's already at Chicago?" queried Albus.

All at once, the train stopped completely, from however many hundreds of miles an hour directly to zero. But again, they were somehow never left unbalanced.

"It moves really fast," said Aidan. "And Boston to Chicago is one of the shorter legs of the trip, I'd imagine."

Albus peered out the window, brushing the shades slightly aside so he could look out.

He gasped loudly, and Aidan and Alec leapt to their feet with their wands out.

"What is it?!" yelped Alec. "Is it one of Wilcox's?"

"No," said Albus. "It's Heath—"

Aidan let out the breath he was holding, sounding aggravated. "Albus, we really don't have to concern ourselves with—"

"He said he was getting off in eight hours, not one stop," said Albus. "Where are the boy and girl he brought with him?"

"Maybe he left them with someone else who was already on the train," said Aidan, though his voice indicated he was also feeling concern.

"It didn't sound like that," said Albus. "It sounded like it was only him, and—oh no—did he—"

Heath's stomach had been large when they'd met him, but now it was positively bulging in a comically grotesque fashion. He continued twirling his gold wristwatch, but then clasped it for a moment while he opened his mouth and pulled a clump of hair off his tongue. He dropped it on the ground and continued on his merry way with a belch.

"_Holy shit,_" wheezed Albus, his voice sounding much tinier than usual. "I think—_holy shit,_ I think he's a—we have to—"

"Albus, no!" snapped Aidan, seizing his wrist; Albus looked down to see in surprise that he'd taken out his wand. "Albus—one day, we can come back, and we can inform the authorities or something about Heath, but there is _nothing_ we can do right now that wouldn't endanger us. I don't know if he killed those kids or anything, or how many more he might kill before this is over, but the number of people whose lives are in immediate danger from Wilcox is a hell of a lot bigger!"

"But if we just—an anonymous tip or something—"

"And make our presence known? Merlin, Albus, have you lost your mind? Aren't you the one always telling us to keep our heads down, to interact with as few people as possible, to minimize the chances that we're even looked at?!"

Albus stowed his wand away, but his eyes filled up with tears as he thought about how scared those kids must have been… about how close they were to taking Heath up on that offer… about how many other kids may have gone that way. He'd seen that Heath's aura wasn't human, and he should have put the man—or hag, or whatever he really was—in the ground when there was no one watching. He curled up his fist.

"Hey, I'm just glad to see Albus _emoting_ again for once," said Alec.

Aidan cracked a smile. "That's actually a good point… but given how close he was to making a gigantic mistake, I'm starting to understand why he's been trying not to emote lately."

Albus stared out at the Chicago train station, until they jumped back up to speed. The announcer's cold voice couldn't have cared less about the young boy and girl who were probably just brutally killed and eaten by a monster in disguise.

"_Train departing from Chicago, Illinois,_" rang the voice. "_Next stops: Granite Sky, Montana; San Francisco, California; Markspot, Canada. Write your destination on the wall of your cabin if you'd like an alarm when we're about to reach your stop. Call 'Attendant' if you need assistance for any reason. Please mind that magic is not permitted inside the train except in case of emergency. We know you will enjoy your ride._"

O

"How many times have we watched this part? Fifty?" asked Aidan. "I _still_ haven't seen Desulgon at all in here, even though he gave you the Resurrection Stone. He must have been worried about someone seeing it if they watched your memory. Damn, he's good. It just looks like the Resurrection Stone suddenly appeared in your hand."

Albus didn't respond; he was concentrating on Westerling, whose ghost had just appeared in the memory. He had been wondering if Aidan and Alec would be able to see the ghosts from the Resurrection Stone, given that only he could see them when it had actually happened. But since the memory was from his perspective, Alec and Aidan could see them as well.

As Westerling turned his back to Albus to model the hand movements, the three boys began to practice again.

"Hey, why doesn't _practicing_ the movements activate the Dev?" asked Alec. "If all it takes is the arm movements? I don't feel any power like you were describing… not at all. Am I doing it wrong?"

"I don't think so," said Albus. "I think the magic just… somehow _knows_ whether or not you actually want to cast it, or if you're just practicing. Even when I wasn't getting it totally right, I could feel the power. And by this point I think we're practicing it perfectly. So if we actually were trying to cast the spell, we would probably start feeling it."

"Or it could be because we're in a Pensieve," said Aidan, shrugging. "Either way, it's weird that the magic is responding differently. It's like it _knows._"

As the memory ended—or at least, the necessary part of it—they sailed back out of the Pensieve, and landed back in the memory room as the announcements rang out again.

"_Train departing from Paris, France,_" rang the voice throughout the train, echoing continuously around the enormous cavern of the train's interior. "_Next stops: Madrid, Spain; Lagos, Nigeria; Cairo, Egypt._"

"And then Athens right after that," said Aidan.

"Ah, Cairo," said Alec. "Such fond memories."

Albus felt a pang of longing as they sped through France. He wished he'd had time to visit Janelle… He'd been thinking about her a lot lately, especially since he carried around the Eucoeur that she had sent him, the crystal embodiment of love, which he'd never had the chance to return. The words from her letter echoed back to him. He'd read it many times.

_Should there ever be a time when you do not feel you can continue, when carrying on seems impossible, crack the crystal. You will be filled with instant memories of all of the love which has ever entered your life, without any of the hate. The love will surround you, empower you, and remind you what you are living for, what you are fighting for._

He practiced the motions from the Portraverse Devoctrix again, which would allow them to use Herpo's portal. He hoped they wouldn't see Herpo the Foul again… Or his servant, who seemed equally insane.

"Let's watch my visit to Herpo's lair," said Albus. "To see exactly where we have to stand to activate the portal."

"A good idea," agreed Aidan.

He pulled the memory of Herpo from his head, and deposited it into the Pensieve. He felt like he was close to making some sort of connection. They jumped in, entering the memory right at the point that Herpo's portal let Albus out onto the floor of his lair.

Herpo's servant stepped forward, and as he entered the light, Albus narrowed his gaze.

"That's… weird," said Albus. "He looks… more familiar to me than before."

"Well, last time was the first time you met him," said Aidan.

"No… I feel like I've seen him somewhere else."

"You think you _recognize_ his servant?" asked Alec. "I just assumed that was some random Greek Dark wizard who spent his unfortunate life searching for Herpo or something."

"He seems _more_ familiar for some reason," said Albus. "More than he did before."

"So… another mystery we won't get explained?" asked Alec.

Albus sighed. "I suppose," he said, looking at the servant again. He was covered in scars. All over his face, neck… As he pulled up his sleeve to cut off his own hand, Albus saw that his arm was covered in scars as well.

"Those look like… Exo's scars," whispered Albus. "Werewolf scars. Look at that! Those are self-inflicted. Bites and claws. He's a werewolf."

"Ow," said the servant in the memory. "Like… ow. That really, really hurt. I mean—not that I expected cutting my hand off to feel pleasant? But seriously, that was incredibly painful."

"I always wonder what it's like in these adventures you've had without us," said Alec. "This guy is totally bonkers, isn't he?"

The servant continued within the memory. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken… you will resurrect your foe."

After taking Albus's blood, he glanced back at the Albus in the memory. "You don't have any motherly love swimming around in there, do you?" he asked. "Because, you know, we're going to kill you after this, and we want to make sure we actually can. It'd be really embarrassing for that to happen to _another_ dark lord. Can you imagine? The press would have a field day."

"Yep, he's totally nuts," said Alec.

"He actually sounds like… his tone of voice sounds like Desulgon's," said Aidan. "When Desulgon was insane."

"It's not Desulgon," said Alec, glaring at Aidan.

"I know it's not," said Aidan. "What I'm saying is… this guy is definitely off his rocker, but it sounds like a Chaos Contagion type of craziness, doesn't it?"

"Maybe he had the contagion," said Albus, still staring at Herpo's servant, "and cured himself by getting bit… But I thought no one else knew that?"

"Maybe someone did," said Aidan. "It would make sense, though… Herpo used several Devs. The servant of someone like that would probably be more likely to have dabbled."

Suddenly, there was a _thud_ behind them that Albus didn't remember from his memory. He turned around, and went into panic mode as two strangers stood up, both nicely dressed women.

"_Oh, pardon!_" exclaimed one of the woman, with a heavy French accent; they must have just boarded in Paris. "_Nous ne savions pas, voulons util_—"

The woman cut herself off as she noticed what was going on in the memory, and her jaw dropped. Albus immediately cut off the memory when he realized they were regular people, and they began soaring back out of the Pensieve.

_They're going to recognize us if they hadn't already,_ thought Albus. _Shoot, they're going to recognize us, and we can't use magic in the train so we can't wipe their memories or anything—_

They tumbled outside of the Pensieve. As they landed, Aidan leapt to his feet and extracted both wands. Had he forgotten—?

"Aidan, no!" blurted Albus, but Aidan had already jabbed his wands into both girls' temples before they regained their senses from what had just happened. He pulled and concentrated, and slowly strands of memories came drifting out of their heads—

"Move!" hissed Aidan, and he and Alec sprinted out of the room.

Albus glanced back to the Pensieve—even though the situation was urgent, he couldn't leave the Pensieve full of memories of him casting Devoctrices and of Desulgon's big revelations. He dipped in his wands and pulled out each memory in turn that he had deposited there. He looked back over his shoulder; the women were still regaining their senses. He removed every memory he'd placed in the Pensieve, and fed them back into his eyes and ears, as he knew was the way to regain the memories. He dashed out of the room before the French women's eyes refocused on him.

Alec and Aidan were about to dart back into the room when he finally emerged, and they walked swiftly out of the meditation complex, hoping their behavior hadn't seemed strange enough to anyone else to be investigated.

"Did you extract their memory of seeing us?" asked Alec, breathing heavily when they arrived back at their room.

"Yeah," said Aidan. "They might still remember it vaguely, but they wouldn't be able to replicate the memory. It'll be really fuzzy in their heads and it would be all blurry if they tried to put it in the Pensieve. They could only get it back with the help of experts, but by that time, we'd be gone. Albus, were you getting your memories out of the Pensieve?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "And are you sure the authorities won't be on us for you having used that spell to pull out their memories? It doesn't have an incantation but it was definitely magic…"

"I don't think we'll be noticed for it," said Aidan. "They probably make an exception for memory-pulling since there's a Pensieve on board. It wouldn't make sense to prosecute people for using the services they offer. So if they were looking, they'd just see that someone extracted a couple of memories in the Pensieve room. Nothing suspicious about that… I hope."

"Good quick thinking," said Albus. "I don't think they saw me while I was getting the memories out, so my face would be fuzzy if they looked back at the memory of the aftermath, right?"

"Right," said Aidan. He sighed. "Another close call. This was supposed to be the relaxing part."

They sat in silence for a while, until the announcements rang out again. France to Spain was one of the shorter trips, after all.

"_Train arriving in Madrid, Spain,_" rang the voice. "_Next stops: Lagos, Nigeria; Cairo, Egypt; Athens, Greece._"

"Let's get ready for the arrival, then," said Albus. "We're almost there."

O

After disembarking the train in Athens, they made their way to the edge of the city at a brisk walk and each took their brooms out of their magically expanded packs. They mounted the brooms and lifted off into the sky.

"Should be easy to see," said Albus. "It's a big, perfectly circular lake because it was the crater of an explosion. Katarina Pinzel's daughter filled the crater with water."

"After all this, we need to make a night where we can head to a Pensieve and watch all your most kickass memories," said Alec. "I really want to see Rebecca Pinzel whoop Herpo the Foul's foul butt."

They flew silently under their Disillusionment charms, scouring the landscape. The sun had only just come up in Greece, so the contours of the earth below them were exaggerated in shadow. The same sun would soon be rising over Hogwarts, and though it seemed totally bizarre, Albus felt that he might be more comfortable in the Forbidden Forest at night than in broad daylight.

"We've got to be wary of whatever's lurking in the Forbidden Forest as well," said Albus. "Desulgon told me there's a lot more Kinderaiths than we'd think."

He wasn't sure if his friends heard him over the rushing wind; either way, he got back to concentrating on looking for what used to be Herpo's lair. He knew it was just north of Athens, so it hopefully wouldn't take too long…

"Hey!" said Alec. "I see something that looks like a huge-ass crater. Doesn't have a lake in it, though."

"That might be it," said Albus, and he followed Alec's gaze. Far to their right, he could see a sudden ovular shadow in an otherwise flat area of the landscape. As they diverted their course to it, he could see the remains of a ruined building in the center. "That's it!"

"Wonder what happened to the lake," said Alec.

"That makes sense, and we probably should have known that would happen," said Aidan as they continued their approach. "The lake didn't have any streams feeding it or anything, so it probably drained really fast. So the portal is right in the center of that building?"

"Should be," said Albus.

"Okay," said Aidan. "And, one more time. You don't think it'll accelerate your Chaos Contagion at all, to use this portal?"

Albus shook his head. Making it was the hard part. This would be like using Swait's knife, or tracing a line on Dismiusa's barrier to break it. Just using a Devoctrix that was already there. It shouldn't affect him.

They landed in the wreckage, looking around tentatively, but there was no sign of Herpo or his servant. Albus began moving his arms in the practiced fashion.

Instantly, though he hadn't felt anything when he was in the memory, he could feel the air rippling around him, and energy swirling inwards. Aidan and Alec stepped in close, and each placed a hand on one of Albus's shoulders just to make sure they were brought along for the ride.

The crater around them began to dissolve, slowly at first and then rapidly, leaving a great expanse of nothingness in front of their eyes. Suddenly standing on nothing, they began to fall, toppling and turning until they struck the surface of a mossy rock.

"I guess it worked," said Aidan, laughing. "That was so much smoother than any other magical teleportation… I was expecting it to be worse."

"Shall we go, then?" said Alec, looking for footing to clamber down.

"No—wait," said Albus. "Come back, put your hands on my shoulders again…"

"We're not… going _back_ yet, are we?" said Aidan, sounding slightly concerned, as if he were worried that using the portal had caused Albus to go insane.

"No," said Albus. "I just want to test it, to make sure we still feel the power from the portal… it would suck if it closed, or if it resisted the three of us and only let one or two of us go."

Alec and Aidan nodded, and they stepped forward, replaced their hands, and waited as Albus did the first part of the hand movement for activating the portal. Albus felt the energy soar around him again, and he stopped. "Did you feel it?"

"I did," said Alec.

"Me too," said Aidan. "Excellent! No time to waste, then?"

"No time to waste," agreed Albus. "Tomorrow is my birthday, after all."

"So, which way is Hogwarts?" asked Alec.

Albus had watched the memory enough time to know, and he jumped down, trying to figure out the angle from which he'd approached the rock. He determined that southwest was the way to Hogwarts, based on which way the sun was coming up.

"So we should go northeast, then, if Hogwarts is southwest?" confirmed Aidan. "We need to find at least one Fokii… If we find just one, it'll be smart enough to reason with. But we shouldn't go looking in a direction closer to Hogwarts."

"We should have cast Supersensory Charms before we left through the portal," said Alec, frowning. "If we use them here, now, Albus's Trace will give us away. It was fine when we were on the move, but we don't want them to know we're in the forest…"

"But we also wouldn't have wanted them converging on Herpo's lair and waiting for us to teleport back, so it's a good thing we didn't do it before we left," said Albus. "Wait, though… I can leave while you guys cast Supersensory Charms on yourselves, and then we can regroup. I'll get my Trace far enough away for you to be able to use it without us getting Traced. How far would I have to be away from you to make sure your magic isn't picked up?"

"You sure that's a good idea?" asked Aidan, his brow settling the way it always did when he was anxious about a decision. "Letting you off alone?"

"I'm sure," said Albus, already backing up. "We need to be decisive while we're here. First step: I'm deciding I'm heading off while you cast Supersensory Charms."

"If you run into a Kinderaith?" asked Aidan.

Albus grimaced. "Right… I can't conjure a Frisbee or anything like Professor Wilcox did, since I can't use magic."

"Good thing I planned ahead," said Aidan, and he opened up his bag and tossed Albus a pair of Fanged Frisbees. "They said Kinderaiths were popping up in forests all over the world, and since I expected we might be in forests all over the world…"

Albus caught them gingerly and stuffed them in his own bag, trying to avoid the fangs. "Awesome," he said. "Way to think ahead."

"I want to be able to think ahead like that," said Alec, shrugging, "but I still have trouble with the 'think' part in general."

"I'll see you," said Albus, "in, like, thirty seconds. Won't be that big of a deal."

He turned and started running.

"You should only have to go about as far as the distance between average houses!" called Aidan after him. "They wouldn't arrest an underage person if the neighbors were doing magic. Just go… I don't know, a hundred feet or something, that should be fine."

One hundred feet away, though, still made it difficult to see them in the dark forest night. The sun would be coming up soon, but not yet. The sky, at least, was not completely pitch-black, from the little he could see above the treetops. But with the thick trees in this area of the woods, he might as well have been a thousand feet from them.

"You can come back," said Aidan. "And let's hurry… Just in case something was noticed anyway."

They set off northeast; Aidan and Alec were paying special attention to their surroundings.

"Something coming over from the left," said Alec, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating.

"It's a unicorn," said Aidan.

Alec concentrated harder. "How can you just _tell_ that so quickly?"

"Because I can see the glow," said Aidan, rolling his eyes. "Remember, you have _other_ senses."

The unicorn cantered forward, undaunted by their presence. Almost _too_ undaunted, in fact. And it wasn't glowing quite as hard as he was accustomed to seeing…

"Does this unicorn seem a bit… off?" muttered Alec, slowly taking his wand out.

"Is it a _fake_ or something?" whispered Aidan. "To lure people?"

The unicorn trotted closer, and turned slightly to avoid a tree—when it turned, they could see a sizeable gash in its neck and a bigger one in its side.

"Holy _Merlin,_" murmured Albus. "It's a _Fokii_ unicorn."

"Can they even infect unicorns?" asked Aidan, extracting his wand as well.

"Well, unicorns are powerful magical creatures when they're _alive,_" said Alec, "but I suppose everything dies the same in the end…"

The unicorn was staring directly at Albus.

"I don't like this," said Aidan. "Why is it staring right at you?"

"Were you looking for us?" asked Albus.

The unicorn bobbed its head.

"How did you find us?"

The unicorn neighed, a sudden, sharp whinny that cut through the still of the night around them. _"Teeeeeeeeeeee-rarararara!_"

"We need help," said Albus, knowing it probably couldn't respond to his former question. "We need a flower. A flower that stops the potion that Headmaster Wilcox of Hogwarts used on your master—Dismiusa."

The Fokii unicorn bobbed its head again, gaze still fixated on Albus.

"Do you have that?" asked Albus, pressing the luck while they had it.

The Fokii unicorn turned, but tossed its head to the side first in a gesture that clearly stated _follow me._

They were walking southwest—towards Hogwarts. Aidan's fingers twitched incessantly and Alec was grinning like a maniac.

"We're getting such huge breaks," whispered Alec happily. "Albus found Desulgon's message in the Pensieve at just the right time, Albus took out the top three Sandbloods on the way to meet us, we got out of Egypt and landed right at Lucas's doorstep, Desulgon shows up there a few hours later, we found Herpo's lair really fast and now we have a Fokii leading us right to the flower we need!"

"I know," said Albus. "That's what concerns me."

"We didn't expect any luck at all and so many good things are happening that it's making me extremely nervous," said Aidan.

"Buzzkills," scoffed Alec.

Albus kept both hands on his wands, ready to strike if this was a decoy or something—but why would Wilcox have been expecting them to come here? Did he know about the cure? He looked over at Aidan, who was also still keeping watch with his Supersensory Charm.

But despite the extreme misgivings between him and Aidan, they marched on.

"Something's towards our right—" began Aidan, but he was cut off by words that were not spoken from their group.

"_I think it's juuust about playtime,_" cooed a voice from the bushes.

All three pairs of wands whipped around to face the eyes peering out at them; the unicorn screeched out into the distance, and a Kinderaith emerged. Albus seized the Frisbee from his backpack so quickly that he was accidentally bitten; ignoring the pain, he held up the Frisbee.

"It's _almost_ playtime, but my friends and I have somewhere to visit for a few minutes first," said Albus sweetly. "Would you take this Frisbee in the meantime and we'll be back to play with you?"

The Kinderaith's lower jaw unhinged, then detached from its face and dropped straight to the forest floor. The three boys jolted backwards, unsure of what to expect from this.

The Kinderaith leaned down and snatched its jaw back up off the ground, then slammed it back on its face. It pointed a gnarled, putrid gray finger at Albus and shrieked, "_ALBUS POTTER IS HERE! ALERT THE MASTER!_"

"_Shit!_" shouted Aidan, but he held his wand steady; he didn't dare fire a spell unless absolutely necessary, lest the master be alerted even faster.

Then stampeding sounds came from the distance, and for a split second Albus thought Wilcox had been that fast to find them—but it was a pack of forest trolls. Before he even got the chance to wonder whether they were friendly, he saw that they were clearly deceased, and they were taken over by the Fokii; the trolls thundered right up to the Kinderaith and bashed it so far into the ground that it wasn't even visible in the crater that was left.

The unicorn trotted over again and bobbed its head at Albus. One of the trolls stepped away from the group, and leaned down, offering its hand. It looked like a handshake at first, but it was pinching something between its thumb and forefinger.

A flower. A small, red flower with a spiral green stem.

"That's it," breathed Albus. "That's the flower…"

"Don't drop it," warned Aidan. "Remember, once someone picks it, it vanishes when it's no longer in contact with a living thing."

Albus gingerly plucked the flower from the Fokii troll's grip. He looked around.

"We should go," he said. "And fast. Just in case the Kinderaith _did_ get a message out to Wilcox…"

As they sprinted back to the portal, the unicorn neighed again, this time sounding more like a word: "_Kiiiiii-i-i-illll!_"

Albus handed the flower to Aidan as they came upon the rock; they jumped up on it and he began the motions. The power surged up inside him again, cresting to a roar, and just before they vanished, he heard shouts and flashes of spells headed their way. But before the spells could reach them, they were falling through the nothingness again, plummeting into the earth in Herpo's ruined hideout in Greece.

Albus staggered to his feet, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face in triumph and overwhelming relief. Did they just successfully complete a mission with no life-threatening incident?

"We did it!" shouted Aidan, jumping up with the flower.

"We got it!" yelled Alec, pumping a fist.

"Hooray!" shouted an unfamiliar voice.

The three boys turned around. Grinning like a maniac at them from across the ruins was Herpo the Foul's servant.


	9. The Chaos Drain

CHAPTER NINE

THE CHAOS DRAIN

O

A sound of rushing wind filled the air as Albus felt the portal permanently close behind them. He and Alec each pulled out both of their wands, and Aidan pulled out one, carrying the flower in his other hand. All five wands were aimed directly at Herpo's servant, who mockingly raised his hands in an "I surrender" fashion, but did so while continuing to grin like a lunatic. One of his hands was made of a shining metallic substance—the hand he had cut off to revive Herpo.

Of course they couldn't go a day without being in terrible danger. Why would he have ever thought they could go somewhere without fearing for their lives?

"It's so nice to see your magic in action," sighed Herpo's servant. "Really working. It's beautiful. Can I take a picture to remember this moment?"

"Where's Herpo?" asked Albus, suddenly fearing that this may have been a distraction.

"Off searching the world," said Herpo's servant, dismissing the question with a wave of his hand. "Looking to reclaim something you stole from him."

"His body?" asked Albus, his throat closing up.

"Oh, no, he's already got another one of those," said Herpo's servant. "A quite nice one, too. Completely empty vessel, easy takeover. Which is saying something, as I hear he was a pretty empty vessel _before_ he lost his mind. Went by the name of Elbad Swait."

Albus choked on his own breath, and kept his wand steady, ready to strike if necessary. They should leave as soon as possible, in case Herpo's servant was signaling his master to come back.

"So what did I steal from him, then?" asked Albus. "If you're not referring to his body?"

"You don't even know?" giggled Herpo's servant. "You took it from him. Gone with the wind! But that's alright. Minor setback. Hopefully."

"You'd better tell us," said Albus, stepping forward, raising his wand a little higher.

"Empty threats no info gets," sang Herpo's servant gleefully. "You wouldn't dare cast a spell right now lest you bring forth an enemy who's just as foul as my master!"

Albus ground his teeth in frustration. He slowly backed away.

"What are you doing?" hissed Aidan.

"Getting a hundred feet away," said Albus. "So you two can deal with this arse."

Herpo's servant cocked an eyebrow, but watched them without moving.

"You're a werewolf, aren't you," said Albus, trying to distract their enemy.

Herpo's servant shrugged. "I _was…_"

Albus's eye twitched. "What do you mean, you _were?_"

"I got bothered by the transformations, so I stopped."

"What the hell does _that_ mean?"

Sixty feet away. Seventy feet away… Aidan was tilting his head, checking Albus's position every once in a while.

"Well," said Herpo's servant quietly, as Albus was about to get what he felt was a safe distance. "I see you're itching to start a fight. You can get yourself killed that way, you know. Or get _others_ killed." He shrugged again. "Suppose there's no reason for me to stay any longer, then… Nice chatting with you kids. Stay in school!"

He chuckled at his own joke, and turned swiftly to Disapparate.

But nothing happened. Instead of disappearing, he simply ended up turned around, staring in the other direction.

"Hm?" he wondered aloud.

Then two figures leapt from the lip of the crater, skating down towards them at almost an invisible speed. Albus raised his wand again, suspecting the worst—but even at this distance, he recognized those heads of hair anywhere—one blond and one bright bubble-gum pink.

"Ad-Jup!" shouted Gil.

"Skew!" shouted Louis.

Albus recognized it as Auror terminology. They had cast an Anti-Disapparition Jinx and were about to attack Herpo's servant from both sides. Albus backed further away, stepping into a shadow from the crater's edge, not wanting to be near the spells when they started flying, which they promptly did—

"Mo-Ho!" cried Gil as he was about to come around the other side of Herpo's servant. "You take him, I'll take—Alec?! Aidan?!"

Louis tripped up for the smallest of moments upon hearing those names, and Herpo's servant seized the opportunity, overwhelming him with a burst of darkness that knocked Louis off his feet and out of the fight for a moment too long. Herpo's servant opened up a hole in the ground and sank, closing the hole behind him.

"Damn!" cried Louis, charging to the spot where the servant had just disappeared. "We almost had him—months of searching, gone!" He continued past Gil and skidded to a stop in front of Alec and Aidan. "What in the bloody _hell_ are you two doing in _Greece?!_"

"And me, too," said Albus, running forward out of the shadows to join them. "Gil! Louis! I can't believe it!"

"Albus?!" roared Louis. "Don't tell me you were going after Herpo—what were you _THINKING?!_ You're not even of age yet!"

"It wasn't on purpose," said Albus, cringing. "Not like I can be around here when I turn seventeen anyway!"

"What are you talking about?" groaned Louis. "And how could you just stumble into Herpo's lair by _accident_ and _accidentally_ run into Herpo's servant?! Albus, you just cost us the chance to nab the right-hand man of the most dangerous individual on the planet right now!"

"Pretty sure that award goes to Wilcox?" asked Alec, raising an eyebrow.

"Alec, this isn't the time for joking," growled Gil. "And that wasn't funny."

"You really think Herpo is worse than Wilcox?" asked Alec, looking back to Albus and Aidan with an eyebrow raised. "Have you heard _anything_ about what's going on lately?"

Louis and Gil exchanged glances, then both of them peered at Alec through narrowed eyes to look for signs to tell if he was joking or not.

"We've been completely isolating ourselves from everything as we search for Herpo," said Gil, looking between Albus and Aidan next. "We haven't been in contact with anyone for weeks; we were constantly on the move while we tailed his servant. You know we left the Auror Office to do our own investigative work?"

Louis looked desperate for someone to start cracking up and reveal that it was a big joke being played on them. "What's… what's going on back home?"

"We were just about to call you," said Albus, taking Louis and Gil's business card. "I guess we should get you up to speed…"

"Maybe relocate this discussion to somewhere less likely to be swarmed by people and/or creatures who want to murder us?" suggested Alec.

"We have a safe place not far from here," said Louis. "Let's go."

O

"Well, fuck," breathed Gil when all was said.

"My thoughts exactly," said Louis. "_Mon Dieu._ I can't even comprehend the slightest bit of this. Professor Wilcox…"

"I still wouldn't even believe you, if everything you've told us hadn't matched up so cleanly to everything we never understood," said Gil.

"So we don't have that much time," said Albus, eyeing the sun outside the window of the empty house near Herpo's base where Louis and Gil had set up shop to keep an eye on the Dark wizard's activities if he returned. The sun still wasn't quite at the peak of its climb, but they still had a lot to do.

"We need to get the flower that Aidan is carrying to my father," he continued. "I guess he's working with Mr. Malfoy to find the cure to the Marionette's Medicine. He's hiding out in Romania with Uncle Charlie. If we can do that, we might be able to gain back control of what is currently one of Wilcox's biggest advantages against us—our own friends and allies turned against us by way of MM."

"That definitely sounds like the priority," said Louis. He looked at Gil. "If you're worried about time, though… Gil and I can handle that part. You said you need to go find Dodecus in Australia before your birthday arrives?"

"And it'll arrive quicker in Australia because of the time difference," said Albus. "I don't know if that matters with the Trace or with the breaking of my protection, but it's not a risk we want to take…"

"It doesn't matter," said Gil. "The Trace, at least, breaks exactly seventeen years after your birth time in your home time range."

"But you were saying you could take the flower to the Potters?" asked Aidan.

"We could do that," said Louis. "That way you don't have to be worried about leading anyone to your family, either."

"That would save us a lot of time, if you feel comfortable about that," said Aidan, looking over to Albus.

"Hey, _we're_ the actual professionals here," laughed Gil. "You three still haven't even graduated…"

"I feel comfortable with it," said Albus. "I trust you."

"I would hope so," said Louis. "I just lost about eighty percent of the people I trusted in the last half hour, so… those kind of people are in short supply now."

"Then we should go as soon as possible," said Albus. "Except… Louis, you know that business card you gave me?"

Louis's face lit up. "Oh! Yes—we deactivated those, but I can activate yours again so you can contact us."

Albus exchanged glances with his friends.

"What?" asked Louis, looking between them. "Is something wrong? Did you lose the business card?"

"No," said Albus. "It's just… odd. Really, really odd."

"I know what you mean," said Aidan. "I'm thinking it too."

"I was just looking at you guys because you were looking at me," said Alec. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that the coincidences are getting a bit absurd," said Aidan. "We teleported to a place that could have been anywhere in the world, but we wound up in _Lucas's_ yard. Then Desulgon showed up. We were at Lucas's house for all of, what, two hours? And if we hadn't been at Lucas's house when Desulgon had showed up, we wouldn't have been able to get any information out of him because we wouldn't have had that potion. Then we arrive at the train with under an hour to spare before it left, otherwise we would have had to wait a full day if we missed it. Then we went to find the Fokii, who found us immediately upon our entry into the forest, and we came back to Greece and instantly ran into your cousin and your mentor, Albus." He turned to Louis and Gil. "We thought we had a way to contact you two, but as it turns out, if we hadn't run into you in Greece, we would have had no way to contact you ever again."

"That many coincidences just don't happen together," said Gil. "If you ask me, someone's looking out for you."

"Who?" said Albus.

"Desulgon?" offered Alec. "Is it possible that he just… set things up before he went crazy? Used prophecies to determine he should rig the pyramids to send us to Lucas's house?"

"What if Herpo's servant led us to you two on purpose?" asked Gil.

Albus considered this for a moment, but although he thought he recognized Herpo's servant from somewhere else, it didn't seem right. "He nearly had me killed, cut his own hand off, and revived an ancient force of evil that aims to destroy all that is good in the world," said Albus. "I hesitate to imagine he'd have done us a favor."

"Who knows?" said Gil. "He probably gained some respect for you after the escape you pulled from his master."

"Maybe," said Louis, "he wants Wilcox out of the way too so that Herpo can take control, and knows you're capable of doing it."

They were silent for a moment, before Albus stood up.

"We need to get going, then," he said. "Louis, Gil… do you have the Hocus-Focuser that we used to find the Hourglass Empire?"

"Yeah," said Louis. "We were keeping it to see if Herpo made any other portals. But we've gotten no luck so far from it. You need it to find Desulgon's path to the, er, moon?"

"Ludicrous as it sounds, yes," said Aidan. "Do you mind if we keep it? We may need it for something else…"

"For what?" asked Alec.

"Finding the Shadow's Engine," said Aidan. "We know Wilcox has another one somewhere."

"Somewhere in Africa," noted Albus. "But that's the only thing we have to go on."

Louis and Gil glanced at each other, their faces simultaneously lighting up.

"I'll bet you _anything…_" started Louis.

"…that it's in the Loft-Mason School," finished Gil.

Albus lit up to join them. "Right!" he exclaimed. "That's in South Africa! Wilcox has been going there. You two said you thought there was something weird going on there way back in our fourth year, and he had to have been working on it for a while!"

"We can go take care of that, too," said Louis. "Gil and I are trained for that sort of thing."

"But Wilcox isn't directly after your necks yet," said Albus. "We're already in danger—"

"—and thusly you are less likely to be able to successfully complete the mission, since Wilcox is already keeping an eye out for you and _expects_ you to be meddling," said Louis. "Gil and I will deliver the flower to your father, we'll relay the situation to him too, and we can form a team to take down the machine, while you get to the moon so you can get out of sight before Albus turns seventeen."

"You're not suggesting we should stay out of sight for good, are you?" asked Alec suspiciously. "Because you know that's not going to happen."

"I _am_ saying that," said Louis. "You're all excellent duelists, but you're not trained for any of what you might be encountering. You're doing an amazing job at getting information, but you should leave the reconnaissance and the combat to the people who are trained to do it."

"We can't _trust_ ninety-nine point nine percent of the people who are trained to do it," argued Aidan.

"You think we're not trained enough?" said Albus. "The Lunar Eclipse festival. Breaking out of the Sandblood base and saving my family. The raid on the Sandblood headquarters where I saved a hundred Aurors. The trek into the overgrown forest, the quest to destroy the Horcrux under the school, and the final fight against Dismiusa. Escaping the Mirror of Erised. Fighting off Herpo the Foul. Escaping the Hourglass Empire. Beating Dr. Varnisse. And escaping Wilcox, the most powerful man on the planet, while he was dead set on taking my life. What do you think I've been doing my whole life? I've been training for this for six years!"

"But what you've done better than anyone else so far is getting information, not the battling part," said Gil. "In the battling parts, you've almost died every time."

"I almost beat Professor Desulgon," said Albus. "He told me that I could probably take on anyone at this point."

"And I beat Albus, so I can _definitely_ take on anyone," said Alec smugly.

"Did Professor Desulgon also tell you that you could take on Wilcox's thousand henchmen that he sends to kill you the second you turn seventeen and he finds you?" asked Louis. "They're not going to march up to you and demand a duel with you, then wait for you to take out your wand before they start and then duel you one-on-one. They're going to do everything they can to kill you, without letting you notice them until the curse strikes you. Yes, you've beaten a lot of enemies, but how many of those were full victories against omniscient, pure evil superhumans with total control over the most devastating forces in the history of the universe? Remember, Albus, this doesn't end by a duel or one clever idea. The most we can do is keep our core group of thinkers and fighters intact while we try to take this system apart a little bit at a time. And that is something we're going to need time to do. But you won't have that time unless you definitely get up to the moon. Which is why Gil and I will run your errands for you. We'll stay in touch—I'm sure Desulgon had some way to communicate with the Earth, and I'm sure you'll find it. Until you have a clear mission in mind and full assurance of your safety, you should stay up on the moon and learn what you can from Desulgon's equipment."

Albus tried to think of something to say to this.

"You don't have to do everything yourself," said Louis, patting his hand. "Honestly, Albus, you're so like your father it's eerie. Don't worry. Gil and I will take care of the flower and the Shadow's Engine. And again, we'll let your father know about the Shadow's Engine and we'll take any backup we can get."

"What if Wilcox is watching you to see who you try and contact?" said Aidan. "Since you don't know to look out for him yet?"

Aidan's comment hushed the group immediately.

"What if he's watching us right now?" asked Aidan quietly.

The pause in the conversation resumed.

"We have _Muffliato_ and a lot of other protective spells around this house," said Gil after a moment.

"We're talking about _Wilcox_ here," said Aidan. "I really hope he didn't hear where we're going…"

"If he was, we lose everything and it won't matter what we do," said Albus, "so let's carry on with the assumption that he doesn't know we're here right now and wasn't listening."

"If he's listening, he might be holding off while we're still giving away secrets," said Aidan. "If that's the case, then he'll attack as soon as we're done saying anything interesting. So we'll always have to be ready for that… in the future if not right now."

"Let's disappear, then," said Albus. "We already know what each of us has to do. Gil and Louis… good luck."

He tightened his grips on his wands, in case there was an attack like Aidan was worrying. But there was no sound except for a slight patter of rain that had begun sometime after they'd arrived. It was hard to tell how fast time was going by when you had to pack a hundred hours' worth of thoughts into every second.

Gil pulled the big Hocus-Focuser out of a pocket of his robes and handed it over. "You asked for this?"

"Yes," said Albus. "Thank you. But… did you want it to search for the Shadow's Engine?"

"If I'm interpreting correctly what you've told us," said Gil, "it sounds like this device is a mechanical _catalyst,_ which will make it easier to _cast_ the Devoctrix, or whatever that kind of spell was called… but it's not actually a Devoctrix itself. Therefore Dumbledore's Hocus-Focuser wouldn't zero in on it like we would want. Might even distract us. But _you_ need it to find Dodecus."

Albus stared at Dumbledore's Hocus-Focuser, and recalled what Dumbledore's portrait had said—that he had stopped making them once he perfected the design for the first time. At the time, Dumbledore had declined to explain why he'd stopped making them after the first perfect model, but Albus thought he may have finally realized the answer to that question now. Dumbledore cast the Celetect Devoctrix to create this Hocus-Focuser, and if he cast too many Devoctrices, he may have contracted the Chaos Contagion.

"How are we planning on getting to _our_ destination?" asked Aidan.

"Fairy dust and optimism?" suggested Alec.

"I'm allergic to fairy dust," said Aidan. "But I'm being serious. The train is long gone and we're running out of transportation options."

"Should we give them HERMAN, too?" asked Gil, turning to Louis.

"Who's Herman?" asked Alec.

"It's not a who, it's a what," said Louis. "HERMAN is the High-Energy Relocating… something like that."

"It's the Auror Office's invention that began replacing Portkeys," said Gil, and he pulled out a pair of red and white sneakers, ordinary-looking apart from the little wings attached to its sides. "HERMAN itself is outdated because it had the unforeseen side effect of causing a disturbance in the area where you're about to appear—the enemy could ambush you if they noticed. But it can take you anywhere in the world. That's why we borrowed it from the Auror storage."

"You'll have to be very clear where you want to go, though," said Louis. "It's usually used with someone who's setting the destination for you as you go, so you need to have a very clear view of where you want it to take you."

"Thank you so much for the Hocus-Focuser and the HERMAN," said Albus. "Be careful that Wilcox doesn't track you to my family."

"We'll be careful," said Louis. "_You_ be careful."

"We'll be careful, too," said Aidan.

"And we'll erase our memories of where you've said you're going," said Gil. "You can always contact us through the business card and we can meet up later and catch up, you can remind us—but just in case we're captured… we won't give you away."

Louis nodded to Gil, and the pair left the safe house.

"So… leave now for Australia?" said Aidan.

"Yeah," said Albus. "Every second could be precious now."

"Let me set our destination," said Alec. "I've been to Australia with my Loch Stock Liner internship and I know specific places in Australia better than you probably do. And they said we had to be really clear with our destination."

"Go for it," said Albus. "No sense wasting any more time."

Alec motioned for them to put their hands on his shoulders, and then grasped the shoelaces dangling from HERMAN. They were yanked up into a swirling vortex like Apparition, which lasted longer than the usual length of time to which Albus was accustomed, and then they smacked into a field of grass by a golf course.

"Ouch," said Alec, spitting grass out of his mouth. "But we're here! And no one nearby."

It looked to be around mid-afternoon here, and Albus immediately reached for his bag, where he kept his broom. "Let's not waste time, and let's start the search now," he said, and his friends extracted their brooms as well.

Before long, they were sailing around, in a triangle formation with Albus at the head, holding the Hocus-Focuser. Aidan and Alec had their Supersensory Charms were still intact, allowing the group to make sure nothing was following them in the air. Albus eyed the Hocus-Focuser as they soared over the Australian Outback, looking for any sign of life in the mechanical bird with the broken wings which resided inside Dumbledore's final Hocus-Focuser.

As the sun descended lower and lower in the sky, Albus began to worry, although he knew that the night would be coming significantly later back in Europe. He stared at the Hocus-Focuser so long his eyes began to hurt and water. The sun finally disappeared, and night air of the desert was frigid at their elevation while they were rushing through the Southern hemisphere's winter air. Albus worried that it would eventually get too dark to see—he wasn't about to risk using _Lumos_ to better his eyesight if it meant using a spell before the Trace broke. The moon was only a sliver, and with no artificial light anywhere to be seen, the darkness was slowly consuming more and more of the distance. All that was visible was the beautiful night sky above them, but everything below the sky was quickly getting too dark to see.

"I can barely see you guys," called Aidan. "Albus, I know this is a question that you would otherwise seldom think about, but do you happen to know what time of day you were born?"

"It was really early in the morning," said Albus. "We can't stop looking now. By the time it starts to get light again, we'll have been found."

"How are we going to know where we've been, or whether that bird is really moving?"

"I can still see it a little bit," said Albus. "I'll also feel it straining if we get close. As for navigation… we'll just have to hope we're flying over somewhere we haven't checked yet. No time for a map and no way we can use a spell."

Hours passed. The Milky Way and the crescent moon shifted their positions, and the more they moved the more Albus's cold sweat grew colder. This couldn't be their undoing… They had escaped every time before, and even though he was proud of what they'd accomplished before their deadline, he knew they could do so much more if they could just make it to Desulgon's base, up on the very same crescent moon that was taunting them with its movements like the speed of an hour hand on a clock.

He couldn't see the bird inside the Hocus-Focuser at all, and was hoping he would eventually start feeling a pull. But then, as they were flying over a patch of desert no more remarkable than the last, he heard a sound like an owl clawing at a window.

He peered closely, but even when the Hocus-Focuser was right next to his eyes he could still only barely see movement in its contents. It looked like the bird was beginning to flutter against one end of its confinement.

"We have action," he said, just loud enough for Alec and Aidan to hear.

He descended almost all the way to the ground, and began to feel a gentle pull. He flew his broom closer and closer, and eventually the bird began to pull its container downwards.

"I think Dodecus is under us," he said. "Either that or he buried the machine."

"I don't feel anything," said Alec. "In my Supersensory Charm, that is."

"But I suppose Dodecus probably wouldn't want to be found and would have cast spells to make sure of that," said Aidan. "Albus, you want to fly up high and away so we can dig? We'll keep an eye on your position with our Supersensory Charms so that we don't lose you."

Albus nodded. "Can we try knocking first, though?"

"Knocking?" asked Aidan. "On… the ground?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "If Dodecus is in there we wouldn't want to be rude and barge into his house. Plus if he thinks we're intruders and he starts firing spells, that could be an issue for us for a number of reasons."

Alec leaned down and knocked his knuckles against the hardened rocky ground.

There was no response initially, but just as Albus was about to open his mouth to say something else, the ground caved in under their feet. They tumbled down a slope and into a bright light; blinking furiously to recover his unadjusted eyes, Albus heard a familiar raspy voice.

"Albus Potter," said Dodecus Tytezian. "I think I know the nature of your visit."

"Is it true?" came an old woman's voice, and Albus realized it was Rebecca Pinzel, daughter of Katarina Pinzel. "Has Desulgon lost his mind? Or is it another of his ruses?"

"It's true," said Albus, still blinking.

"Light adjustment bothering you?" asked Rebecca. "Here, let me get that—"

"No!" yelped Aidan as Rebecca extracted her wand. "No, please don't cast spells on us right now. Albus still has the Trace on him."

"We're being hunted by someone with connections in the British Ministry, and the Trace could give us away," said Albus.

"Then has the Man in the Shadows been revealed to the world?" asked Dodecus.

"Only to us," said Albus. "It's Helio Wilcox."

"We know," said Dodecus.

"You already knew?" asked Alec.

"I did not at first believe that you could have managed to escape someone that powerful after learning his darkest, most deeply held secret," said Dodecus. "It was an impressive feat, but a highly unlikely one, if everything about this man is to be believed. But neither my Foe-Glass nor Sneakoscope reacted to your approach and I trust that you are who you say you are. Might I also trust that I know your reason for coming? Otherwise Desulgon would not have told you where to find me."

"We are," said Albus. "We need to get to his hideout on the moon before the Trace breaks and Wilcox comes to find me."

"The lunar portal is with us here," said Dodecus. "You may access it at any time so long as you tell _no one else_ of my presence here with Rebecca."

"We won't," said Albus.

"You will find a friend up there," said Rebecca. "Exorian Wilcox was brought to Desulgon's hideaway by Teddy Lupin."

"Exo and Teddy are up there?" gasped Albus with joy.

"Just Exorian," said Rebecca. "Teddy returned to go undercover and assist your efforts, since he was one of the only other people who knew."

"So that's how you already knew it was Wilcox," said Albus. "Thank you for keeping this secret for Desulgon and for sanctioning us and Exo. We know you're taking a risk by doing it."

"I know evil when I smell it," said Dodecus, "and I served seventy-five years for another man's evil. I will do all that I can to avoid more people paying the price for the evil of other men."

"And I've prepared this for you in case you came to find us," said Rebecca, rustling through some papers on a nearby desk and handing Albus a collection of them. "These are my collected notes on the workings of Light magic, the ultimate foe of Dark magic. Only one witch or wizard in a generation will be skilled enough to master Light magic, but you, Albus, are one of a kind in your generation." She smiled like the quintessential kindly old lady as she then stated, "Kick his ass."

"We will," said Albus with a wide grin, taking Rebecca's writings.

Dodecus reached over for a glass of water that was standing on a table, and poured it on top of a box on the desk. The box melted away, revealing a smaller box underneath; Dodecus then opened this new box and scooped his hand inside.

He pulled out a shining silver sphere the size of a blueberry, but it wasn't on his hand—it was floating just above his hand. He tossed it in between the three boys, and it hovered at their eye level.

"Look into the sphere," said Dodecus, "and don't look away. Have a safe trip, and do not return until you have every part of a foolproof plan, because we'd rather not have you dragging Wilcox here."

"I could take him," scoffed Rebecca.

"You could take him in a fight, but he wouldn't go for a fair fight," said Dodecus, kissing the top of her head. "Farewell, my brave young friends."

The three boys looked deep into the sphere; they stared so deeply that everything else faded around them except the sphere and each other. The blackness started to strip away, revealing a dimmer metallic glow. They finally broke their gaze, and looked around to see that they were in a large glass dome, with the sun shining through. Outside of the dome was the gray expanse of lunar dust.

"I can't even believe it," said Aidan. "We're here. On the _moon._"

"Lovely location, isn't it?" asked a soft voice from behind them.

They turned as one to see Exo smiling from a chair. His smile was strong but the rest of his features indicated he was weak. He appeared to be playing chess with a large golden retriever.

"Exo!" said Albus, running over and hugging his friend tightly; Exo returned the hug, and he knew all of their past troubles had settled. "It's so good to see you again."

"Wait," said Exo. "You don't sound surprised to see me here."

"Dodecus told us you came here," said Aidan.

"Rats," said Exo. "I was looking forward to an awesome reveal."

The dog sitting at the chair opposite Exo had turned around, his tail knocking off most of the pieces, and it ran over to Alec to begin humping his leg.

"One of Desulgon's experiments with the same spell that gave him his super intelligence," said Exo, nodding his head at the dog. "But instinct can't be suppressed, I suppose… it's still a dog, after all."

"I'm so happy to see you here alive and safe," said Albus again, wiping a tear from his eye.

"I'm happy you're here, too," said Exo, gesturing to the chess table. "I really need your help. I can't beat this fucking dog."

O

Exo cooked them a large meal, and as Albus saw Aidan and Alec plunge into their food like they would a swimming pool, he realized himself how hungry he was. He polished off his food faster than he'd ever eaten in his life.

"So," said Albus when he was satisfactorily stuffed. "How are you feeling?"

"Odd," said Exo. "I still transform whenever the full moon is facing the earth. So I actually have longer transformations, because it doesn't stop when the moon sets on one place and rises on another; I'm a werewolf from when the moon is full _anywhere_ on Earth until the moon _isn't_ full _anywhere_ on Earth. But for some reason, it feels better to have those longer transformations. We have no way of knowing the long-term effects of keeping me up here, but in general I actually feel healthier than I ever have in my life."

"That's great to hear," said Albus. "I also mean your mental health, though. Last year, you were… on edge. A lot. How do you feel, emotionally?"

"Just fine," said Exo. "In fact, a lot better from the moment I left. I think my dad was doing something to my brain. Making me feel worse. Teddy said he thinks my dad wanted me to kill myself."

Albus grimaced. "Well, you're definitely an emotionally strong person," he offered. "I don't know if I'd have taken it as calmly that my dad was trying to kill me, and was the reason I was a werewolf."

"It's not necessarily a good thing that I feel so numb," said Exo, "but after an entire life of hardship, I'm kind of hardened to the blows."

"But this was a big blow."

"It was," said Exo. "I won't deny it. And you can see the results of my initial tantrum if you go into Desulgon's dueling practice room. I kind of destroyed the place. But now, I know I'm safe, and I know you're going to save the world… so I'm not too worried. Just about who's going to look out for me, since I assume my dad wouldn't, even if he's still alive afterwards."

Albus grimaced; Exo's words were definitely spiteful, and there were clouds building behind his eyes. But Exo closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, and when he opened them again, they were clear.

"I've been working on meditation," he explained. "Some Chinese, some Japanese… not American, their meditation is crap. But it's helping."

"We have to tell Lucas he said that," laughed Alec.

"And how have you been?" said Exo. "You all look appropriately disheveled."

"We've been through a lot already just to get to this point," said Albus. "I hope Louis and Gil were able to get to that Engine…"

"Sounds like I have a lot to catch up on," said Exo.

"Wait, you said you were studying meditation?" asked Aidan. "Does Desulgon have books up here or something?"

"He has, like, a copy of every book ever written," said Exo.

Aidan looked likely to pass out.

"And he has a dueling practice room?" asked Alec, looking just as excited.

"Yeah," said Exo. "He has everything you might need here. And there's a room where he kept all his notes. You all might find that interesting—I couldn't make sense of any of it. What's a Devoctrix? Teddy left in too much of a hurry to tell me much—he told me he needed to go find Desulgon and bring him back up here."

"I'll catch him up," said Alec. "You guys can go do research—that's more your thing than mine."

Albus nodded. "Where's the room with Desulgon's notes?"

"Down that way," said Exo. "Past the Chaos Drain, whatever that is. The rooms are labeled—I assume in case he ever needed someone else to come up here."

Albus smirked. Desulgon had been preaching him about not having friends… but if Teddy hadn't been Desulgon's friend, Exo would probably be dead, and no one would be out looking for Desulgon like Teddy probably was. And all of Desulgon's knowledge would be lost up here forever while Wilcox tore apart the world down there with no one to stop him.

Then again… Desulgon was only insane because he'd made the Unbreakable Vow with Teddy to protect Albus.

But if he hadn't taken that vow in the first place, Albus might not have been alive long enough to discover Wilcox's plans.

It was a little too complicated of a series of ripples to accurately follow. Albus looked up at the doors in the metallic hallways. He passed one labeled "_Chaos Drain._"

Albus pushed the door open. Inside was a complicated-looking machine, a hundred slowly rotating silver rods suspended in midair. A circle was bouncing off the rods at random, making little chiming sounds and causing the rods to spin faster for a moment when it hit them.

He thought about it for a moment, then ducked over to the room where Desulgon kept his notes—the "_Musings_" room. Maybe he would find notes on what the Chaos Drain was… He had a suspicion, and if it was right, that would really be excellent news for him.

He stepped inside the room, and stared.

There was nothing inside the room. Everything was blank white walls and a spotless floor.

He bolted out, sprinting as fast as he had ever run, and skidded to a stop in the atrium where Exo was talking with Alec; they both looked at him.

"Guys," he wheezed. "Everything's gone from Desulgon's notes room. Someone's been here, they took—"

"Calm down," laughed Exo. "Sorry—I should have explained to you what you'd see and what you have to do. Yeah—it's a blank room. Just go in and ask a question or say something you'd like to know more about… and everything that Desulgon's written on that subject will pop up, written on the walls."

"Oh," said Albus.

There wasn't a way he could have known, but he still felt a little silly about it. He walked back into the room, his heart still racing from the thought that Wilcox or someone may have been up here. He cleared his throat and decided to test it out.

"What does the Chaos Drain do?" he asked.

A few notes appeared on the wall in front of him. He stepped over to them—the room, being entirely white, was deceptively big, and it took him almost half a minute to cross over to the other side of the room to read. Then again, he supposed there had to be a lot of wall space in this room in case a very broad question was asked.

_I've finally created a decent prototype of the Chaos Drain, a device I've postulated will prolong the Chaos Contagion's takeover of the brain, without the usual unfortunate requirement of destroying another human mind. When the physical manifestation of the Chaos Contagion is released from the body—a shining, violet-black goop that can be controlled with eerie dexterity—if it does not infect a different person (which immediately destroys their mind), then it rushes back into the user and can cause premature full insanity. Not sure if this always happens, but it happened with Swait—see memory under _Physical Manifestation of the Chaos Contagion_._

_With a perfect Chaos Drain, the chaos can be subdued for a longer period of time, longer than draining onto another human. It will still take consistent use, but at least one won't have to choose between going insane and making someone else insane (though of course there are many who deserve it). My Chaos Drain isn't perfect, but it will do for now; it should work the same as the original method of draining._

_It was created using the Vivertain Devoctrix—the very same Devoctrix used to create Horcruxes, but using a different variation. This Devoctrix affects the soul, and since the Chaos Contagion germinates in the soul and spreads to the brain, the Chaos Drain can purify the soul briefly. It will not, however, stop the user from going fully insane eventually (most likely 529 days after the initial infection or first physical manifestation, though Gallen Ingot found some way to go longer)._

"Physical Manifestation of the Chaos Contagion," said Albus, eager to next explore the topic that Desulgon had mentioned in these notes.

Some more notes appeared, replacing the earlier ones, and it looked like a strand of memory appeared just under the surface of the wall, swirling slowly and elegantly. Curiously, Albus placed his hand on the wall and stroked his fingers just above the memory.

As his fingers brushed over the memory, it disappeared, and the walls started changing color. Albus turned around to see the memory playing out in front of him. Desulgon and Teddy were with Swait.

Swait wrenched open his jaw, and out poured the same Chaos Contagion, grabbing Teddy and hoisting him high in the air; Albus almost whipped out his wand to help before he remembered this was just a memory. Desulgon disappeared; the memory faded away and back, and now Desulgon cast the Spirit Guard Devoctrix to rescue Teddy. The Chaos Contagion rushed back into Swait's mouth, down his throat, and Swait lost his mind instantly.

Albus listened to the exchange between Teddy and Desulgon afterwards, where Teddy screamed many of the same points that Albus had been feeling towards Desulgon.

As the memory faded, Albus wondered what Desulgon had written about _him._

"Albus Potter," he said curiously.

More notes appeared; Albus stepped forward to read the centermost.

_I have been coerced into ensuring the continuation of Albus Potter's existence, but I don't regret it. The boy has strange power. The most talented young wizard of the day happens to be the son of Harry Potter—see _Prophecy 00043_—see _Unexplained Coincidences_—see _Suspicious Coincidences_—see _Ongoing Investigations.

_I have reason to believe Albus either cast a Devoctrix at a very young age or had a Devoctrix cast upon him. Certainly before his school days. The Scent is strong on him. I therefore do not mind staying close and protecting this investment of knowledge. Should I be able to study him, I may find evidence of an effect of the final Devoctrix which escapes me, or else an unknown variation of one of my lesser studied Devoctrices._

_Albus also had close contact with the servant of Herpo the Foul—see _Servant of Herpo_—see _Ongoing Investigations_—and upon review after the incident with Herpo's rebirth, when I first became aware of the servant's existence, it appears that the Servant of Herpo had been in contact with Albus even before Herpo's rebirth, though Albus may not have been aware of it._

_For these reasons, it is important that I stay close to Albus Potter and continue to study him. He is connected, deeply, to nearly every single one of my ongoing investigations._

Albus raised an eyebrow. Herpo's servant… He was right, then, that he recognized the servant from somewhere else. And it was interesting that Desulgon was researching Herpo's servant so heavily. Was there something more to this man than just his connection with Herpo?

He eyed another memory swirling around, and touched his fingers to the wall above it; the memory faded and began its reenactment in the room behind him.

Albus turned to watch, and saw himself on a bed, with Desulgon standing at the door.

He watched himself fire off a Stunner, and Desulgon went down. But why didn't he remember this? Surely he would have remembered beating Desulgon in a duel…

Then, he noticed nearly invisible movement—he hadn't defeated Desulgon, Desulgon had simply created an illusion to make it look like Albus had taken victory. Desulgon grabbed Albus by the throat and threw him onto the bed, lecturing him about how weak and foolish he was. When did this happen, exactly?

Desulgon's words from the previous school year echoed in his head to answer his question: _"I was the one who put the memory there of which you are so terrified… A subconscious memory of what happened to you. I'm not proud of it, but it's an unfortunate yet necessary part of the whole ends-justify-the-means thing. I hurt you pretty badly."_

Desulgon was now interrogating Albus about Aanmar Vioulii… then lecturing him again.

"Why bother with this whole speech?" muttered the Albus in the memory. "Aren't you just going to wipe my memory?"

Albus slowly began to realize that this was the memory that had caused him so much terror the previous year whenever he thought about the Devoctrices.

"Oh, yes," replied Desulgon. "I will wipe the memory. But I will leave the _feeling_ of this encounter… the _feeling_ of what could befall you if you find yourself in a situation like this. Whenever you remember the Devoctrices, I want you to subconsciously remember what you're up against. I want you to feel helpless, and alone. Then maybe you'll leave well enough alone, and stop butting in at exactly the wrong times, because you'll remember, somewhere in a forgotten memory, just how very, very fragile you are."

Desulgon grabbed Albus's arm in a flash of movement, and broke Albus's bone; the present-day Albus threw a hand to his mouth as Desulgon then began physically beating him into a bloody mess—beating him physically would be easier to heal with magic to cover up any trace that it had happened, Albus suspected. He watched as his nose was shattered, his chest was pummeled so hard that he stopped breathing from the shock. Desulgon raised his fingers up, threatening to dig Albus's eyes right out of their sockets.

Albus turned away, unable to continue watching the memory. Desulgon said something else, and then the memory ended, and Albus sank onto the floor with his head in his hands.

Not only did Desulgon not truly care about any of them, he showed absolutely no restraint in the memory in causing Albus intense pain.

They were expected to _rescue_ this man?


	10. Bloodbombs

CHAPTER TEN

BLOODBOMBS

O

Albus stepped back into the "_Musings_" room and pulled out the notes he'd taken from their information map. He had taken all the notes marked with black, because black denoted an unsolved mystery. He looked at the first one, and then asked his question to the room.

"Why did my wand connect to Herpo the Foul's wand?"

One paragraph of notes followed, and Albus stepped forward to read it.

_Albus Potter and Herpo the Foul clashed in Priori Incantatem. The reason for this is still unclear after weeks of poring over the details. I might have expected because they shared blood when Herpo was reborn using Albus's as the blood of his enemy in the ritual, but then one would expect siblings and parents to clash, or at least twins; after all, don't they share blood, too? The reason Voldemort's and Harry's clash resulted in Priori Incantatem was because of their wand cores, not because of their shared blood. Interesting to note is that Albus clashed with the servant's wand, not with Herpo's scepter, which Albus apparently shattered. If I can find the servant and get my hands on his wand, I might be able to answer this question—see _Servant of Herpo_. Though there also remains the weird angelic creature that burst from Herpo's wand afterwards. I believe this was a manifestation of Herpo's attempt at controlling the Superstorm Devoctrix. He appears not to have fully succeeded—as Dismiusa only gained control of nature and the earth, and Werora only gained control of the sea, Herpo appears to have gained control over the sky. This manifestation of winds departed Herpo—perhaps he lost his power over the wind when Albus defeated him. But then there was the strange fact that something similar seemed to be happening to Albus Potter, as well—small mountains and boulders rising up around him. If I didn't know better, I'd say it seemed like Albus Potter had also, sometime in his life, mastered some form of the Superstorm Devoctrix to control the earth. But if this is the case, I'm not sure he's even aware of this. How it could have happened by accident, I do not know. But if they had both mastered some form of the same Devoctrix—perhaps this is why Priori Incantatem occurred._

Albus blinked away the shock on that one. Mastering a part of the Superstorm Devoctrix—the most powerful Devoctrix after love, most likely? He had _mastered_ the same spell responsible for Gallen Ingot's destruction, and Dismiusa's reign of terror?

That was ridiculous. Maybe Herpo had controlled him to cast the portal-making Dev, but there was no way he'd ever cast the Superstorm Devoctrix. That felt like something he would remember.

Was it the Chaos Contagion, maybe, that caused them to connect wands? No—he didn't get that until after the Herpo incident. Or maybe it just didn't show up in his eye? Maybe you had it after the very first Devoctrix you cast?

He sighed and moved onto the unexplained phenomenon on the next note.

"The Vortex," he said.

A few paragraphs appeared this time. The center paragraphs tended to be the most important, so he focused on those first.

_Several writings I have uncovered, most notably the notes I restored from Adexre—see _Adexre's Journal _—speak of a place where magic, knowledge, and spirits are physical, and bodies, objects, and matter in general are the intangible things. Some say it is where Vanished objects go; others say it is the "between-worlds" place that we go during teleportation from Apparition, Floo, or Portkeys. Adexre claimed to have found himself in this place one day after an accident with his Vanishing Cabinet. He claimed he wound up in a purple ocean, heard voices, and saw his friends who had died in a shipwreck. He claimed that his friends led him to a strange light. He thought that he was to die, but instead, when he climbed into the light, he emerged from Japan's Vanishing Point. He named this place the Abyssal Vortex, because he believed that his friends had sunk with their ship into the ocean abyss and had appeared there, guiding him to safety when his Vanishing Cabinet took him there. He spent the rest of his life researching it._

_From Adexre's research, I concluded that the voices and people he perceived were similar to the effects of the Resurrection Stone, and so I have put more stock in this fairy-tale than most. Given that Vanishing Cabinets were most likely created with the Portraverse and Paracosmic Devoctrices, and that the Deathbreacher Devoctrix could be involved, the Abyssal Vortex could in fact be the source of all Devoctrices, or some other uniting factor connecting all twenty-three somehow. I aim to try and find my way there someday. I had suspicions that the Vanishing Point was a natural entryway to the Abyssal Vortex, but it was destroyed at some point while Gallen Ingot was in power—even more suspicious._

Albus considered this. Through a Vanishing Cabinet… inside the world of the mirror as it was falling apart… What could it mean? What was the connection?

"The burning day," he said next, consulting their note about the unknown prophecy that Parock Sysmal had told Harry in the beginning of Albus's fifth year.

_A burning day for a phoenix is when it dies, bursting into flame, and is reborn from the ashes. I have had no luck attempting to use the Magimorph Devoctrix to replicate this brand of magic; even so, immortality in this form probably wouldn't be ideal, since if I was turned back into a baby I'd have to wait quite a few years before I was back in fighting form, unlike the mere weeks it takes for a phoenix to return to form._

Nothing about the prophecy he'd overheard in his fifth year. He wondered if the Aurors had actually managed to keep that one a secret from Desulgon. Though if the Aurors knew it, Wilcox probably knew it now. Was it important? The "clashing shadows" would fizzle out on the "burning day…" The "hostage," "coveted by both," shall be "the downfall of both…"

"Clashing shadows," he stated.

The notes on the "burning day" faded, but nothing appeared in its place. It appeared that Desulgon didn't have any notes on "clashing shadows."

He worked his hand through his hair in frustration. He had thought that maybe, coming here to Desulgon's hideout, maybe _this_ would finally be the time when he had all of his questions answered. But it seemed that not even Desulgon knew some of these things—or if he did, he hadn't written them down.

What was the connection? What did it _mean?_

He felt like there were perhaps one or two big secrets, connected to everything else that had been going on, which hadn't been uncovered, and once they were, everything else might come to light. But he didn't have the beginnings of an idea of how to find out what those secrets could possibly be… Or about how many of these secrets were protected by other peoples' Fidelius Charms and could never be uncovered no matter how hard he tried.

"Fidelius Charm," he said.

_The Fidelius Charm is a Quasi of the Illusiveil Devoctrix just as the Taboo Jinx is a Quasi of the Celetect Devoctrix. I postulate that this is one of the most powerful Quasi spells in existence, due to the fact that it has been proven that a Fidelius Charm can _never_ be superseded by a Taboo Jinx, despite the fact that conflict between the Illusiveil and Celetect Devoctrices will be won by which was cast more powerfully. Another reason I believe this to be the case is that casting the Fidelius Charm requires hand motions remarkably similar to that of casting the approximations I know of the Illusiveil Devoctrix. It was by studying this Quasi, in fact, that I determined how to cast my approximations of the Illusiveil Devoctrix._

He didn't know what "Quasi" meant, but he could guess. As he investigated this new term on the wall, he confirmed his suspicions: it meant a regular spell that had almost the same effect as a Devoctrix, just to a less powerful degree. Spells like this included the Fidelius Charm and Taboo Jinx, the Killing Curse (a Quasi of the Darkriver Devoctrix), Inferi (a Quasi of the Anthropous Devoctrix), and Obliviate (a Quasi of the Psychomorph Devoctrix, one of Desulgon's least-researched Devoctrices).

His stomach growled again, and he left the room; he could come back at any time, after all. They had been here for over a week now. Day and night were mostly irrelevant, mealtime was whenever they got hungry, and all they could do while they were up here was research more and more until they found something they could use. Until then, they were safe, and living in relative comfort. The problem was that relative comfort wasn't very comforting when you were worrying for your relatives.

"Hey, Albus," said Aidan, who was already taking ingredients for a salad out from the fridge when Albus arrived in the kitchen. "Find anything yet?"

"Some guy named Adexre, A-D-E-X-R-E, might be important. You might want to check that out when you're back in the library."

"Sounds good," said Aidan. "You should take a look at Desulgon's notes on Ilka when you're back in the Musings room."

"You think so?"

"It's just one of those weird places that might be housing a secret," said Aidan. "We already know Werora rules there, but there could be something else important, too."

"I'll take a look," said Albus, taking out a bag of cereal.

Aidan finished making his salad, then twirled his fork around in it as Albus located a bowl and spoon. Albus finished his cereal and Aidan hadn't even started his salad.

"You okay?" asked Albus.

"I'm just… not in the mood for this," said Aidan.

"Well, it's salad," said Albus. "Try a pizza."

"I mean, this in general," said Aidan, gesturing around. "Living here, up away from the action. I was nervous about being down there on Earth, but now that we're not, I'm nervous about what's happening down there while we're up here. I'd rather die fighting than live forever up here if it meant Wilcox could win."

"We can't live up here forever anyway," said Albus. "There's only enough food for us for a few more months."

"We could go and get some and bring it back, but that's not the point," said Aidan.

"I know it's not," said Albus. "And believe me, I want to be down there just as much. But we do need to be armed with as much information as possible. All our enemies… They know so much more than we do—"

"—and we need to know what they'll be coming at us with," said Aidan. "I get it, I know. It's just—"

"—frustrating in the meantime," said Albus. "I get it, I know."

Aidan sighed and started twirling his fork around in his salad again.

"It's Rose, too," asked Albus, "isn't it?"

Aidan nodded.

Albus looked over at Desulgon's dog, whom Exo had named "Dumbledog." Dumbledog looked up at Albus longingly, and Albus smiled and turned the cereal box to pour some cereal on the floor, which Dumbledog slurped up gleefully.

"You're smart enough to get this on your own, you know," said Albus. "You're welcome to any of the food here as long as it's healthy for dogs to eat."

Dumbledog didn't seem to give any indication that he'd heard.

"I think his intelligence is only increased in strategy games," said Aidan. "Not just chess, of course, he's a madman in poker. Exo and Alec and I got whooped. But maybe that was just because it's hard to read a dog's poker face. He was always smiling with his tongue hanging out, whether he had a full house or just a pair."

"I envy a dog's ability to be happy all the time," said Albus.

Aidan finally started to eat.

"And how are you doing?" asked Aidan, after he'd finished off the first bite. "You know. A week after using the Chaos Drain for the first time?"

"Like my head is a lot clearer," said Albus. "I felt like I was on autopilot—a very efficient autopilot—but now I actually feel fully in control again."

"That's great," said Aidan. "So you should use it, what, every three weeks?"

"At least, yeah," said Albus. "Twenty-three days, I think."

"I figured. Twenty-three again."

Aidan finished his salad while Albus sat and scratched Dumbledog's head.

"So," said Aidan, picking up his plate and washing it off. "What now?"

"The same thing, I guess," said Albus. "Until we have something else to go on."

O

They did indeed continue the same thing, for days afterward. Weeks. Albus researched Ilka, researched all of Desulgon's questions about the servant of Herpo the Foul, used the Chaos Drain, researched everything else he could think of, used the Chaos Drain again, researched everything else he hadn't thought of. With little exercise other than walking back and forth between the rooms, he felt lethargic and lazy, and began to worry that they might never find anything they could use.

"Wilcox's plan was made to be completely airtight," said Alec as Albus trudged back into the room, feeling as defeated as ever. "We knew it was going to be tough to get anything on him."

Albus reached for the shelf with the cereal boxes, but the last box was finally gone.

"Dumbledog finally figured out how to get to the cereal," sighed Alec.

Albus exhaled. "So what's left to eat?"

"A lot of pasta, some shitty tofu thing, and a lot of vegetables," said Alec. "Unless you want to cook."

"I didn't come to the moon to _cook_ while everyone I know is possibly dead down there!" barked Albus.

Alec held up his hands. "Albus, I never suggested that you came to the moon to _cook,_ I was just telling you it was an option."

Albus sank down into his chair and ignored his growling stomach. "I know," he moaned. "But we've been up here for _months,_ Alec. _Months._ And we still haven't gotten anything useful. We know Werora was the reason for the Ilcian revolt, we know she's probably mastered the Superstorm Devoctrix. We know that Wilcox has done a lot of evil. We've all been studying Light magic since we got here and only you've gotten anywhere close to succeeding with one spell. We've learned a lot about the Devoctrices, but nothing about how to cast them because Desulgon didn't put that information in here. We're running in circles up here. I'm going crazy without the help of the Chaos Contagion."

"Maybe we just need to… hold out a little longer," said Alec.

"For _what?_" scoffed Albus.

Then there was a soft _whump_ behind him, and Albus turned around to see the turquoise-colored back of a head. Teddy was brushing himself off in the same place he and Alec and Aidan had landed when they first arrived.

"Teddy!" blurted Albus.

In a flash, Teddy's wand was out, and Albus's arms were tied to the chair, as were Alec's.

"Your favorite book as a child, Albus," demanded Teddy immediately.

"Oh—_The Muggle Who Magicked,_" said Albus.

The ropes vanished, and Teddy bounded forward into a hug, his hair turning bright yellow with glee. "Albus!" he cried out. "I had no idea you were going to be here—I came here for Exo!"

"It's great to see you too!" said Albus.

"How goes the search for Professor Desulgon?" asked Alec. "Or, I assume that's what you've been doing?"

"Every trail is cold," said Teddy. "See, he didn't _completely_ lose his mind—just control of it. He knows I'm out looking for him because he remembers our relationship, and he's playing a worldwide game of hide-and-seek with me. It would be a lot easier for me if he had completely lost his mind, but then again, that would also have made it easier for Wilcox."

"Speaking of him, have you gotten wind of any of his other plans?" asked Albus.

"Yes," said Teddy, his face clouding over, "and it's really beginning to trouble me. I know he's working on a couple mini Shadow's Engines. I've known this for almost two months now and I still can't get anyone to say where they're being kept. They could go off at any time."

"_Mini_ Shadow's Engines?" asked Albus.

Excitement and fear began creeping back into him for the first time in weeks. It was admittedly somewhat revitalizing, but horrifying as he realized the implications.

"Yes," said Teddy. "Codename: Bloodbombs. They're smaller, so they'd do less damage, but less damage is still a lot—even more than I originally thought. I think Wilcox is planning to wipe out an entire city of Muggles—London or bigger."

"Oh my God," whispered Alec.

"And because they're smaller, they'll take a lot less time to complete, which is probably why he's making them," said Teddy. "And he could refuel them and use them again after a while, so the damage will add up. But it also takes a lot of resources either way. If we take these out, we'll have crippled their supply line for a long time. But if they go off…"

"It'll cripple the world," finished Albus. "For a _very_ long time."

"Yes. I imagine you haven't been down on the surface world for a while, but any idea where it could be?"

"I don't know," said Albus. "One of the other schools Wilcox is always visiting, maybe? Schools seem to be his go-to place."

"I'll look into those," said Teddy. "Anything else?"

"Ilka?" suggested Alec. "It's so secretive, it'd be perfect to hide something."

"That's a definite strong possibility," said Albus.

"Hah! See? I can _think_ sometimes, too."

"Or even the Hourglass Empire," said Albus. "Now that we've left."

"Heck, he could have a secret facility in the middle of the ocean for all we know," said Alec.

"Where's Exo?" asked Teddy. "We could ask him if he knows of any place his father went a lot. It's a longshot, but maybe he let something slip and told Exo, thinking that Exo wouldn't suspect anything weird about it."

"Doubtful," said Alec. "He's only slipped up once, ever."

"If he slipped up once, he could have done it again," argued Teddy.

"Hah!" came Exo's triumphant shout. "I _told_ you someone else arrived!"

"Teddy!" shouted Aidan.

Exo and Aidan came running into the room; Exo threw himself into a hug around Teddy's waist. Their smiles dimmed when Teddy began explaining the situation to them, though, and Aidan sank into contemplation.

"So," said Teddy, once he had finished telling Exo and Aidan the latest updates. "How are we going to find out where the Bloodbombs are?"

"Ask politely?" asked Alec.

Albus lit up.

"That wasn't a serious suggestion," amended Alec.

"No, it was," said Albus. "Wilcox has a lot of people on the inside—but _we've_ got someone on the inside, too!"

"You think you might be able to find it in time if you join their ranks again?" asked Aidan, looking to Teddy.

"I don't know, they're _really_ keeping this one secret after the last disaster," said Teddy.

"I wasn't talking about Teddy," said Albus.

"I've been looking and asking for a long time and I haven't heard a peep other than that they exist," said Teddy. "I think for that same reason."

Albus had forgotten that they couldn't hear him speak about Eftan yet. But maybe he could change that…

"We have to go back to Earth," said Albus, hoping this was vague enough to be heard.

The other four turned to him.

"Excuse me?" said Exo.

"Exo, you should probably stay here," said Albus. "Especially given that the full moon is tomorrow. But Alec and Aidan and I need to go back. Teddy, if you're okay with coming with us… It might be dangerous."

"Coming with you to do _what?_" asked Teddy.

"Couldn't tell you if I wanted to."

"Another one of these?" asked Aidan, raising an eyebrow to emphasize what his words hadn't already.

"This should be the last one," said Albus. "The final secrets. Teddy, you had to do this to my dad—you remember?"

"I do," said Teddy.

"Well, this is just as important," said Albus. "This could help us find the last Shadow's Engine."

"I trust you, Albus," said Teddy. "But I'm also closing in on Desulgon's trail and if I catch scent of him… I think I might have to leave you and restart my chase. It'll save more lives in the long run, I think, if we can get Desulgon. I don't know if that'll happen—it's just my fair warning in the case that it does happen."

"We would understand," said Albus, and the memory drifted back to him from the train: his friends stopped him from confronting Heath, the man who appeared to possibly be a hag in disguise… Even though Heath might have killed more people since they let him go, they couldn't take the chance of being discovered in the process of stopping him, if it meant Wilcox could continue with his greatest threat gone.

"You'll need some way to hide yourself once we're down there," said Teddy, "or else Wilcox could find you the second you land, for all you know."

"We put so much stock in worrying about Albus turning seventeen," said Alec. "Do we actually _know_ Wilcox will be able to find him just because he's overage?"

"We just didn't want to take the risk that this was the case," said Aidan. "But Albus, you should probably hide yourself under the Invisibility Cloak whenever we're not in a protected area."

"I've got a house under the Fidelius Charm," said Teddy. "I'm Secret-Keeper for Victoire. I don't live there, since I'm constantly on the move, so I was eligible. I can take you all there once we're back down. Exo, are you…?"

"I'm okay to stay," said Exo. "I understand I'm a liability—and it's okay, since I know it's not my fault, it's my fucking dad's. Besides, someone's gotta take care of Dumbledog."

Dumbledog barked appreciatively.

"Although I would like a food delivery soon," he added. "These guys have been eating craters in my moon house."

"Let's hope the Invisibility Cloak works, then," said Albus. "Although if there's no way to protect me, I'm either doing nothing up here or being dead down there, so… I say we go for it."

"I'll Apparate us as close as I can," said Teddy, "but it'd be far to Apparate from Dodecus's place in Australia to Victoire's in France, so we may have to go partway and wait."

Albus sighed; France always made him think of Janelle…

"We have HERMAN," said Aidan. "Louis and Gil lent him to us."

"Have you heard from them, by the way?" asked Albus. "I assume they successfully destroyed the Shadow's Engine, or you would have mentioned that… But are they okay?"

"I helped get them out," said Teddy, smiling. "They're fine. They're crashing with Harry until they recover from some of the more nasty injuries they sustained in that bout… last I checked in they were still recovering. It was a rough fight. But they did it."

"That's a relief to hear," said Albus.

Teddy walked over to Exo. "Hey," he said. "I admire you for keeping the right attitude about all this. Now, do you happen to know anything about where your dad might have gone off to without much notice, somewhere he was keeping a secret? Anything that he might have said or done that could have hinted at where the Bloodbombs are?"

Exo breathed in and out deeply. "No," he said finally. "I'm really not sure…"

"Anything out of the ordinary he said or did when he left on weird schedules? Anything at all, one detail could make the difference of whether we find it or not."

Exo worked his jaw around. "Er… he might've… Well, more than a few times last year, he took a winter coat with him."

"Really?" said Teddy. "Somewhere cold, then?"

"Oh, great," said Alec. "That narrows it down to _still an arseload of places,_ doesn't it?"

"But a heck of a lot less than _the entire world,_" noted Aidan. "Did he take his winter coat with him during our winter, or during our summer? That might tell us which side of the equator the cold place was, since summer and winter are switched…"

"He actually took his winter coat with him more than once," said Exo, "and during both seasons."

The others all nodded. "Good," said Teddy. "Good. One of the Poles, maybe? Or somewhere else that's always cold, like Siberia. Or maybe they're both in cold places. But that helps. Thank you, Exo."

"Anything to get back at the bastard who had me turned into a werewolf," said Exo. "It's not a cure, but it's the next best thing."

"Then we should go now," said Albus. "For all we know Wilcox could be blowing up cities in an hour."

Teddy gestured them over to the place they landed, and then extracted his wand.

"Albus, you want to slip on that Cloak before we go?" asked Teddy.

Albus extracted the Invisibility Cloak and slipped it back on. Teddy struck a spell on what looked like a laser pointed in their direction, and then the laser fired, instantly disintegrating them. Weightlessly and senselessly, they entered a void, until they were reconstructed inside Dodecus and Rebecca's dwelling.

"Evening, boys," said Rebecca. "No Albus with you? Is he all right?"

"I'm here," said Albus. "Under the Cloak."

"Ah, smart," said Rebecca. "Master any Light magic?"

"I've got one spell almost there," said Alec, "but it's hard."

"It's the hardest magic there is," agreed Rebecca. "Dispelling human darkness entirely by oneself is a very difficult task. But practice and you will excel—I have my entire faith in you all."

"Thank you," said Teddy. "But, again in the interests of time… HERMAN?"

Aidan released HERMAN into the air, where the shoes floated, laces dangling. Aidan and Alec put their hands on Teddy's shoulders.

"Is it okay for me to stick my hand out?" asked Albus.

"This place is protected by the strongest of spells," said Dodecus. "You needn't worry."

"And we'll be arriving directly into Victoire's," said Teddy. "Also protected."

"Protected against _magic,_" said Albus. "The Devoctrices aren't normal magic."

"If Wilcox finds you from a glimpse of your hand," said Teddy, "we're basically screwed from the start, and nothing will save us. I think you'll be safe just for this trip."

Albus stuck his hand out onto Teddy's shoulder as well, and when Teddy felt the third hand, he closed his own hand around HERMAN's shoelaces.

They warped through the air again, in a much different fashion than the trip back from the moon—this was the uncomfortable sensation of squeezing through a thin rubber pipe, but the ride back from the moon didn't even feel much like traveling at all.

They tumbled into Victoire's place, and Albus immediately stood up. There was no time to lose—now that they finally had a chance to make another dent in Wilcox's plans, they needed to seize it. He took off the cloak and took out the mirror, though he knew his friends couldn't see it.

"I have a plan," he said. "It involves—"

"Who's there?"

Victoire's head peered into view over the stairs, and then she broke into a wide smile when she saw Teddy standing there.

"Do your thing," she said, and Teddy's hair started changing between all the colors of the rainbow at random, as he grew taller and then shorter, wider and then slimmer. When she was convinced it was him, she ran to him and embraced him in a strong kiss.

"Er, hello to you too," said Albus, checking to make sure he wasn't still invisible. He wasn't, but Victoire had certainly acted like it.

"Hello," said Victoire, pulling herself away from Teddy only a fraction of a second before pulling herself back in. Teddy didn't seem to mind.

"I need Teddy for about a minute or two more, if you don't mind," said Albus.

It took about three more minutes for Victoire to be done enough with Teddy to let him go, but eventually she did.

"Okay," said Albus. "Teddy, I need you to take me, since you know where this place is and you can bring us back here."

"Take you where?" asked Teddy.

"Just outside of Hogwarts."

Teddy choked a little bit.

"You're, well, joking, right?"

"Nope," said Albus. "Not very long, though." He eyed Victoire's clock—it would be in the middle of dinner at Hogwarts. "Only enough time for me to send a Patronus into the Great Hall."

Teddy looked over at Aidan and Alec. "Does he do this often?"

"Not so much now as before, but yes," said Alec.

"I know what I'm doing," said Albus.

"What are you going to have it say? You know that could be traced to your location seconds after you send it."

"That's why we have HERMAN," said Albus. "But I'm going to send it into Hogwarts to tell the Slytherins that they'll soon be free, that everyone needs to know the truth, and to warn them not to try and contact me."

He hoped Eftan would understand this coded message—that the Patronus wasn't sent for the Slytherins in general, that it was for _him,_ and that when Albus would go out of his way to send the Patronus to say "don't try and contact me," Eftan would understand it was a coded request to contact Albus. It was the only way he could think to reestablish immediate connection with Eftan when neither of them would otherwise know when the other was holding the mirror.

"That just seems like an all-around bad idea," said Teddy. "And you think this will accomplish… what, exactly?"

"Can't say," said Albus.

"You _don't know_ what you're trying to accomplish with this? Merlin, Albus, you brought us all the way back for this, I thought you already had a plan to—"

"I do!" said Albus. "I mean I _physically_ can't say. Let's go."

Teddy shrugged and gestured for HERMAN to fly over. Albus put a hand on Teddy's shoulder again, and they disappeared, reappearing on the far edge of the Black Lake.

"But for Merlin's sake, be quick," warned Teddy. "If there's an alarm…"

"_Expecto Patronum,_" said Albus, sending his silver coyote directly at the castle.

No time was wasted by their enemy—as soon as a sign arrived that suggested Albus might be close, several sentries sailed out of the castle, casting _Homenum Revelio_ in large areas at a time.

"_Are you done with your little speech yet?_" demanded Teddy, lifting up the bottom of the Cloak and sliding himself under it, diminishing his height so as to fit better.

Albus didn't answer; he was concentrating. But just as one of the sentries was headed their way, about to cast another spell, he finally released his Patronus.

"Ready!" he said, and Teddy wasted no time, either; he grasped HERMAN's shoelaces again and they disappeared into the evening air, reappearing in Victoire's.

"Success," said Albus, lifting the Cloak off himself and smiling widely. He held onto the mirror, and waited.

"So… what now?" asked Aidan.

"Wait," said Albus. "The results might take a while—Hogwarts is still eating dinner, but with any luck, right after dinner ends… you should get your answers."

He stayed by his mirror; he waited a while, then waited a while longer. The end of dinner passed. Night crept on by. But he knew Eftan may have simply decided to be cautious about when he snuck out alone to contact Albus… He wouldn't have wanted to draw suspicions, especially not directly after Albus's interesting message.

The others in the house, thankfully, did not give him grief; they played card games and let him wait. Aidan and Alec explained their system of trust, and how Albus would not be toying with them like this if he didn't genuinely think he had to. Teddy accepted it, having had to be on the other end of this situation with his godfather, and Victoire was just happy Teddy was there and able to spend time with her.

Suddenly, Teddy jumped halfway out of his seat, and he ripped out his wand.

"What happened?" yelped Victoire, ripping out her wand as well.

"Desulgon," said Teddy. "I got a signal. I have to go. I may be able to find him."

"I'll go with you," said Victoire.

"No, you should—"

"THERE'S NO TIME TO FALL BACK ON SUBTLE CULTURALLY-EMBEDDED MISOGYNY. I'M COMING."

"I'd be—happy to have you," amended Teddy quickly.

"Good. Let's go."

"We won't need HERMAN," said Teddy, looking to Albus. "So you take it. And I'm sorry about this."

"It's okay," said Albus. "You said you might have to. Go!"

Teddy and Victoire disappeared in a snap, holding hands.

"I… hope they find him," said Albus, swallowing his personal feelings. "Or that _he_ finds _them._"

"You hope who finds who?"

"Eftan!" gasped Albus, turning his attention back to the mirror.

"Albus, are you in a room with your friends?!" barked Eftan with a scowl. "You know the deal—"

"There's no time for scolding, you have to explain to them—"

"But I'm so happy to hear you're all right, I was—"

"Eftan, listen!" shouted Albus. "Sorry. Sorry about that. But we've got a situation and I need my friends to fully trust me. This isn't a request, it's me saying the world could depend on you telling them you're on our side. Otherwise I can't tell them any information you tell me, and we may need that information to save hundreds of thousands if not millions of Muggle lives."

"Shit, okay, okay," said Eftan. "I figured we'd eventually get there when you ran away with Aidan and Alec. Okay, I'll tell them."

"Okay," said Albus. "I'm gonna hand the mirror over to Aidan. Say Aidan's full name into the mirror so you can start talking to him."

"WAIT!" said Eftan, right before Albus handed over the mirror.

"What?!"

"What the hell is his last name?"

Albus sighed. "Finch-Fletchley. You still don't know that? You went to school with him for six years."

"Right. But it's kind of a tongue-twister. Just give me a few tries."

As Eftan practiced the name, Albus gave the mirror to Aidan, placing it in his hand. He could tell Aidan either couldn't see the mirror or was really confused by why it was being handed to him, but he knew everything would be illuminated for Aidan shortly.

After a brief silence, during which he was certain Eftan was probably botching the name, Aidan's face suddenly turned to shock and horror.

"Albus, why do you have direct communication with Eftan?!" he yelled, looking frantic.

"Hi," said Eftan. "Been a while… hasn't it?"

"Been forever," muttered Aidan. "So is this how Albus knew so much?"

"Boils down to that," said Eftan. "I assume you all already knew that Auchland is the Man in the Shadows?"

"Auchland's not," said Albus, leaning over into Eftan's view. "It's Wilcox."

"I… what?"

"Auchland must be presenting himself as the Man in the Shadows," said Aidan, looking over to Albus, "to his followers. So Eftan is a double agent—and you're sure of this, completely confident?"

"He's my half-brother," said Eftan.

Aidan whipped around to face Albus, and Albus nodded.

"Hold on," said Aidan. "Let's get Alec in on this conversation…"

"Alec McKinney, right?"

"McKinnon," said Aidan. "Here you go."

Aidan handed Alec the mirror, but Alec didn't take it. Albus took the mirror and placed it into Alec's hand the way he did for Aidan.

"Whoa!" yipped Alec immediately. "No way!"

"Eftan, we'll catch each other up when we have more time," said Albus, "but first, is there anything pressing you wanted to tell us? Did you find out anything else big since the last time we talked?"

"Only that Auchland revealed himself to the Slytherins as the Man in the Shadows, but I guess that wasn't really true," said Eftan. "We haven't really been doing anything this year yet. Other than meeting with Auchland to discuss plans for finding you, Albus."

"Anything out of the ordinary you noticed? Anywhere Auchland say he was going, without explanation?"

"On occasion, he's had his winter coat right before leaving," said Eftan.

The three in Victoire's house shared a significant glance.

"But he doesn't actually tell us where he's going," said Eftan. "I asked him once. All he said was 'South.'"

"The South Pole," said Albus. "Or somewhere in Antarctica."

"That's a big place," said Aidan worriedly.

"What's at the South Pole?"

"Probably an Engine of Shadows," said Albus. "A smaller one, that Wilcox is calling a Bloodbomb. Capable of wiping out all the Muggles in a major city, if he sets it off."

"How do you know this?" asked Eftan. "I only ask because I'm hoping that's a mistake and that it's not actually going to happen…"

"Teddy has been infiltrating their ranks," said Albus.

Aidan gave him an irritated sideways glance; they still didn't fully trust Eftan. But Albus couldn't blame them.

"It's okay," said Albus. "It really is. He saved my life last year, and he's the only reason I knew there was anything going on under Hogwarts at all."

"So you're going to go destroy the new Shadow's Engine?" said Eftan. "I heard about the one in South Africa… None of us even knew it existed until we heard that Louis and Gil had wrecked it. Is that all of the Engines?"

"Teddy said there's one more besides those," said Albus.

"We should find the one in Antarctica first," said Aidan. "Confirm that it's there, and then mark the location. Then, find the last one before destroying the first. Then we can go straight from destroying one to destroying the other. Otherwise Wilcox might have time to move whichever one we don't destroy, or pump up security."

"Agreed," said Alec. "So where do we think the second one could be?"

"I still think Ilka is incredibly suspicious and a very likely option," said Aidan.

"Would Wilcox have chosen the obvious option, though?" asked Eftan.

"The obvious option is still a really well protected secret," said Aidan. "I think we should definitely at least check it out."

"We need a plan, then," said Albus. "How to get in and out unnoticed. After we scour Antarctica, of course."

"Definitely," said Alec. "We should—"

Aidan turned as Alec cut himself off. "What the—"

There was a rift in the very air before them, slowly cracking like glass under increasing pressure. It was positioned directly where Albus and Teddy had arrived.

"Holy hell," said Aidan, stepping closer to his friends. "They're—they're reaching through the path you took with Teddy and HERMAN—"

"They can't!" said Albus feebly. "It's the Fidelius Charm, it can't be revealed unless the Secret-Keeper is _willing_ to—"

"It can't be broken by _magic,_ Albus, but you said yourself this is beyond normal magic!" yelled Alec back.

Three fingers breached the gap, and the fingers were slowly sliding further through into their midst. They were fat and round fingers—Wilcox's?

"Let's _go!_" shouted Aidan as the whole hand started to grind through. Aidan clamped a hand each on Albus's and Alec's shoulders, and gestured HERMAN over. "Somewhere random first so they don't track us again and figure out what we're up to—"

Albus took out his wands first. "_Reducto Itero!_"

He Telescoped the spells into each other, and blasted away the roof of the house and two of the walls. Now that the house was compromised, he had to make sure Teddy and Victoire, should they return to the house, would know immediately that they couldn't use the house anymore…

Alec grabbed onto HERMAN's shoelaces, and they vanished once more.


	11. Ilka

_**Happy summer, Northern Hemispherers.**_

_**I put a longer explanation of things on my profile. But, yes. I'm back, and I have fifteen chapters waiting. I didn't upload until I was sure I could finish, and with a regular uploading schedule.**_

_**I'm sure.**_

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ILKA

O

With a splash, Albus plunged into icy water. He surfaced with a gasp for air, not having known he was going to need to hold his breath, and heard Aidan shouting.

"Merlin's balls, Alec, where the hell did you bring us?!"

"A deserted island I remember visiting with the Liner!" said Alec. "I figured it would be secluded enough—"

"There's no island here!" protested Aidan. "There has to be _land_ somewhere for there to be an island!"

"There was an island here before!" defended Alec. "I remember, there were these people who went to go dive next to the island! They called it Submarine Island, because sometimes the island just… oh. Goes underwater."

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE PICKED A PLACE THAT EXISTS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT OF THE TIME?!"

"Just grab back on to my shoulders!" shouted Albus, trying to keep his head above water while the waves kept reaching for his mouth. "I'll get us to a different spot!"

Alec and Aidan swam over to him, and HERMAN zoomed at him. He grabbed onto the tongue of the shoe, but apparently it was only the shoelaces that worked; as the combined weight of the three boys in their drenched robes dragged them all beneath the surface, Aidan and Alec refused to let go in case Albus disappeared without them. About five feet below, Albus finally managed to reach up with his other hand and grab a hold of HERMAN's shoelaces, and they warped away.

They crashed onto a dark beach, one last wave of water rushing down on them and disappearing into the ground as their wet robes were immediately caked with sand. But at least it was much warmer here than at Hogwarts or at Teddy's and Victoire's house. Aidan and Alec stood up coughing and looked around, and Albus followed.

"Where are we?" asked Aidan. "Nowhere too obvious, I hope?"

"We're on the shoreline of Moutohora," said Albus. "This is where Exo and I landed with Janelle when we were going to find Solomon. Don't talk too loud—there might be Muggles doing environmental work around here."

Dawn was starting to break on them. Albus looked around; this place didn't bring back such fond memories, but at least that meant Wilcox might not suspect this to be a place they visited.

"That was probably a good thing that Alec did, actually," said Eftan's voice.

Alec lifted up the mirror; he seemed to have forgotten he was still holding it the whole time. At least he hadn't lost it. He wiped it dry with his robe as Eftan continued.

"If Wilcox tries to follow you now, he'll end up soaked. And he probably wouldn't be able to find your next portal, since it looked to me like you were five or ten feet underwater when you teleported that last time."

"That's a fair point," said Albus.

"You can thank me later," said Alec, puffing out his chest in triumph.

"No thank you," said Aidan, wringing more water from his robes.

"You shouldn't stay in one place too long, though, wherever you go," said Eftan. "So, what's your next plan: trip down south?"

"Yes," said Albus. "And then to Ilka. How are we gonna get in or out of there unnoticed, though?"

"Scorpius is headed home for Christmas break today," said Eftan. "I'm staying, but—"

"It's already _Christmas?_" said Alec.

"Christmas break, but yes, we're pretty close," said Eftan. "Wherever you were, you were gone a while."

"The moon," answered Albus.

"I get that you can't tell me, but you don't have to be snarky about it," said Eftan.

"We were legitimately on the moon."

"Oh," said Eftan. "Well… that's… certainly a location I would never have guessed. Smart."

"Albus," said Aidan quietly, "can we not tell Eftan all of this stuff? Not that I don't trust him, but if he's tortured… or put under Veritaserum…"

"I'll erase the identifying details from my memory after any of our conversations," said Eftan. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Thanks," said Aidan, though he still didn't look fully calmed.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Scorpius is probably headed to his family's second house in Bulgaria," said Eftan. "His family keeps a lot of potions there—he can get you some Polyjuice, and we can slip you some of the hairs from the new teachers at Hogwarts. You can pretend you're them when you go to Ilka."

"Will they notice Polyjuice at Ilka?" asked Albus.

"I don't know. The Liner would, though. You can disguise yourselves with Muggle disguises for the Loch Stock Liner trip, and then Polyjuice when you arrive," suggested Eftan.

"We probably won't be taking the Liner."

"How are you planning on getting around, then?" asked Eftan, confused.

"You'd just have to erase it if we told you," said Aidan, shrugging.

"Fair enough. Well, if you have a better way of getting to Ilka, that works. As I was saying, if you disguised yourself as the new teachers of Hogwarts—Leslie Tetchel, Greta Pierce, and Megan Crim—you could pretend to be them. From context cues, I think the three may have visited the island together before."

"There's three new teachers?" asked Alec. "That's right; I guess Auchland left to be Headmaster, Desulgon went insane, and Valon bit the dust."

"Tetchel teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, Pierce teaches Transfiguration, and Crim teaches Potions. I can get some hairs from each of them without being noticed, I'll label them and send them with Scorpius, and you can stop by his place to pick up the hairs and the Polyjuice. Disguise yourself as them for your trip to Ilka. The Ilcians will probably leave you alone if you say you're doing a routine investigation—everyone at Hogwarts is completely terrified of their authority, I can only assume it's the same at Ilka."

"Sounds like a plan," said Albus. "Remember to wipe that from your memory, though, Eftan."

"We'll remind you later of how much arse we kick," said Alec.

"Thanks," said Eftan. "So, I assume you don't want to waste any time?"

"Right," said Albus. "We're headed to the South Pole."

"Great," said Alec. "I don't have anything nearly warm enough."

"We'll cast spells," said Aidan. "Remember, we can cast spells around Albus now."

"Contact me back in twelve hours," said Eftan. "I'll get free as close to that as I can, so just wait for me to touch in if I don't immediately. But I'll wipe my memory of all of this—except for the next meeting time, and what I need to do between now and then."

"We should wait for night so it'll be harder for them to spot us flying around if we get near wherever the Engine is," said Alec. "When will it be night in Antarctica?"

"Like, three months from now," said Aidan. "The South Pole is currently in daylight the full day; it's summer in the Southern hemisphere."

"Never mind, then, daylight it is," said Alec. "I'll take us—I've been to Antarctica with the Liner, I can at least get us on the shore."

"On land this time, please," said Aidan, casting the Disillusionment Charm on each of them. "I'll deliver your Stunned body right to Wilcox you if you dump us into _Antarctic_ waters."

"I'll do my damnedest," said Alec, cutting the connection to the mirror. "Ready?"

"Ready," said Albus, stowing the mirror and putting a hand on Alec's shoulder as Aidan did the same. Aidan renewed the Connectivity Charms on Alec and Albus, and Albus cast one to Alec so all three of them could communicate without speaking. Next, as he had generally done when he needed to search with the Hocus-Focuser, he cut himself with the Bloodblade and tossed it away—otherwise the Hocus-Focuser would just point towards the Bloodblade, the nearest Devoctrix. He had to ditch it so they could find the next Devoctrix, but conveniently, he could just summon the Bloodblade back when they were done.

Alec grabbed HERMAN's shoelaces, and they were pulled up into the world between worlds again. When they next landed, it was on a cold, rocky shore dusted with snow, with nothing but ice and water in every direction.

_Take out the Hocus-Focuser,_ thought Albus.

Aidan slipped out the Hocus-Focuser, and muttered a spell that brought only the Hocus-Focuser into view out of the Disillusionment Charm. Hopefully no one would notice something that small flying through the air.

_All right,_ thought Albus, _let's go_—

_Hold up,_ came Aidan's voice in his head.

_Hold up for what? Every second could be the second Wilcox launches a bomb—_

_And I think the bird is already pointing towards the bomb._

_You're kidding,_ thought Albus, stepping closer to the footprints under the hovering Hocus-Focuser. The bird wasn't flapping its wings, but it was pressing its beak to the edge of the compass, something he'd never seen it do.

_Alec, do you think the person you dropped off at Antarctica on the LSL could have been involved in making the Shadow's Engine?_ thought Aidan. _Maybe we're really close._

_Yeah, it's definitely possible,_ thought Alec. _Hey, this could be a break._

They extracted and mounted their brooms again, making the brooms as invisible as they could.

_I'm wondering, though,_ thought Aidan, _why the bird is just staring instead of flying. Is that normal? I thought you said it flies, Albus._

_Could be because there's so little other magic happening around here,_ thought Alec. _Maybe the bird can sense it from farther away because there's much less interference, due to how few people live here, and it's just staring instead of flying because it can sense that the source is farther away._

_We can sit here and imagine a million different explanations,_ thought Albus, _or we could get flying._

_Then let's get flying,_ thought Aidan.

Albus and Alec took off in pursuit of the barely visible Hocus-Focuser. They flew after Aidan for what felt like a solid half an hour, until Aidan finally began to slow and they almost crashed into his back.

_Here,_ thought Aidan. _Under the ice. Look. It's darker down there._

Aidan was right—it looked at first glance like a shelf of rock was just under the ice, but from high up in the air they could see that the darker patch was almost perfectly rectangular. In addition, there was an obvious lack of snow in this particular area. In the dead quiet, he could see machine parts churning in the dark rectangle, and could hear a faint metallic grinding. He glanced at the Hocus-Focuser, and saw the bird aiming downwards towards the dark shape under the ice.

_Perfect,_ thought Albus. _Now let's get out of here before they notice us, and we'll come back to this spot directly after destroying the other Engine._

_We should fly a few minutes away and teleport,_ thought Alec. _In case they can sense that someone teleported really close to the base like how they found where Albus and Teddy teleported into Teddy's house._

_Good plan,_ thought Aidan, and they took off again.

After five or ten minutes, or maybe ninety, Albus finally lifted his Disillusionment Charm, flew out in front of his friends and descended to the ground; seeing him, they followed.

_I think we can go now,_ said Albus. _Wait for Eftan's return to our call, and then pick up whatever we need to at Scorpius's place?_

_Right,_ said Aidan._ About that._

_We can trust Eftan._

_But can we trust the Malfoys fully?_

_Draco is helping make the cure for the Marionette's Medicine. I think we can—_

_CAN WE LEAVE?_ came a loud, angry thought from Alec. _I'M FREEZING MY WAND OFF HERE._

_Yeah, let's continue this discussion someplace a little warmer,_ thought Albus.

_Where can we go where we'll be safe?_ thought Aidan. _What's our best option from the ones we've discussed?_

_I know the place,_ replied Albus.

O

"Yeh can stay fer as long as yeh need, o'course. An' yeh're welcome ter come back any time."

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Albus, "but we really only need to be here overnight, and it would probably be a terrible idea to stay longer, for multiple reasons."

"Ah, tha's jus' as well," grunted Hagrid, swinging his arms back and forth, looking very happy to see them. "I gotta head back ter the house tomorrow anyway ter spend Christmas with Grawpy. Wha're yer plans fer Christmas?"

"Not dying," said Aidan, "and trying to save as many people as we can."

"Don' put all that weight only on yerselves, now," said Hagrid. "Ask fer help when yeh need it, I'm always here fer yeh an' there's a lotta other people out there who'll say the same."

"Yes, we know," said Alec, "but the problem is that most of them will say the same to get close to us so they can kill us."

"But we know you're who you say you are, since no one can Polyjuice into your half-giant body," said Albus. "And even if they could take your shape, they probably wouldn't be able to imitate your accent well enough."

"Wha' accent?" asked Hagrid, furrowing his bushy brow.

"Really, though, we appreciate the hospitality a lot," said Aidan.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "Stay safe, all of yeh. Keep away from the animals, an' mind that I'll be in back in the stables ter feed the Abraxans early tomorrow mornin', so don't cast a bunch o' hexes at me or nothin' if yeh wake up when I walk in."

"We'll do our best," said Aidan. "We'll probably conceal ourselves, though, so you might not even notice us still here."

"All righ'," said Hagrid, looking a little disappointed. "Though I wanted ter chat with yeh three more…"

"We can, after the war," said Albus.

"Long as yeh make a point ter visit when yeh're _not_ bein' hunted like dogs."

"Sorry," said Albus with a sheepish grin, as Hagrid left the Beauxbatons stables.

As the door closed, Aidan began casting defensive spells, but he didn't look fully convinced. "You really think this is a good idea? Staying with Hagrid?"

"Well, that's why we're not staying in his _house,_" said Albus. "I just figured he was one of the only people we could trust who can't be Polyjuiced. And Marionette's Medicine can't be used on giants either, or even half-giants. Different brain structures."

"Yeah, but Hagrid can be a bit… er…"

"He can be a bit of a lot of things," interrupted Albus, "but he can also be a lot more loyal than anyone else."

"But this also seems like a person Wilcox might suspect we'd visit."

"Maybe he'd suspect we'd visit his house, but I don't imagine he'd look for us in the Beauxbatons stables," said Albus. "And I haven't seen Hagrid in so long. I don't think people actually know he and I know each other well."

"Well, it's a comfortable temperature in here and Hagrid didn't try to torture and murder us," said Alec, "so let's stay."

"Keep HERMAN close," warned Aidan. "We never know when we'll all need to suddenly jump on the next shoelace out of town."

O

"All righ', Legeau? Kumont?"

Albus slowly opened his eyes, awakened by the voice; Aidan was already up, watching Hagrid feed the enormous winged Abraxan horses. He glanced outside; there were snowflakes falling.

Albus turned around; Alec wasn't yet awake. The sound of his rustling caused Aidan to look over; Albus was surprised to see that he was smiling. He hadn't done that in a while.

"They named two of the horses after the French couple who found the way to make Beauxbatons look like it levitates," he whispered, smiling a little wider.

"You're such a nerd," muttered Alec without opening his eyes; apparently he was awake, too.

There was silence as they watched Hagrid feed the other horses. With nothing to do but simmer in his thoughts, Albus began thinking about everything he had tried to avoid thinking about since they left Hogwarts.

Aidan smiled for the first time in a very long time, only when Hagrid had called the horses by name and he'd recognized the names. Aidan wasn't meant to be out here, trying to save the world. He was supposed to be studying for his N.E.W.T.s. Headed home for Christmas break from Hogwarts right now, to a family that wasn't potentially killed or enslaved by Wilcox on the chance that Aidan tried to visit them. Aidan was supposed to be headed into his last term at Hogwarts, having applied to graduate schools of magic already, maybe headed to Katarina Pinzel or Molstraem to do research. Alec was supposed to be living up his last year, not taking anything seriously and knowing he was almost free to take on a position on the Loch Stock Liner, helping people cross the globe instead of trying to save the globe. He had dragged them into a life of misery and fear… he could only hope they would succeed, rather than Albus being the reason they ruined the last year of their lives, got everyone they loved put in the same position, and eventually got killed.

"Hey, Albus?"

Aidan's voice snapped Albus out of his trance.

"You look a little too introspective right now," said Aidan. "Wanna snap out of it and pull out the mirror? It's been almost twelve hours since we last spoke with Eftan."

"Yeah, sure," mumbled Albus, and he extracted the mirror drowsily, holding it loosely in his hand.

"This is such a serene place to be," said Aidan, looking around the stable.

"Apart from the pungent odor of whiskey," said Alec into the floor.

Hagrid left soon after, and the boys waited for Eftan to contact them back. The snow turned into sleet, and the sleet turned into a heavy rain. Just after the twelve-hour mark had passed, Eftan's face appeared in the mirror.

"Found somewhere safe to stay, I assume?" asked Eftan.

"Yes," said Albus. "Is Scorpius headed home right now with the hairs?"

"Yes, and they're in separate bags, labeled with the teacher's names. His parents have already picked him up; he's not taking the train, since he's not going back to London. So he'll be there earlier than most of us would be back from the train. You can head out as soon as you want; I'll give you his location in Bulgaria."

Albus took careful mental notes as Eftan explained exactly how to find the Malfoy's second residence.

"Perfect," said Albus once he had it memorized. "And you're certain his parents will be okay with us taking some of their Polyjuice Potion?"

"Or more importantly," added Aidan, "you're sure that his parents won't call Wilcox on us when we get there?"

"We're sure," said Eftan. "You know how serious this situation is. I wouldn't send you there if I didn't one hundred percent believe it were safe to do so."

"Or if he were being mind-controlled," whispered Aidan, away from the mirror. "And we can't test him from this distance."

Albus shot Aidan an irritated look, but what Aidan said actually did concern him.

"Griffiths?"

The voice came from a distance, from the other side of the mirror. Eftan quickly shoved his hands into his pocket along with the mirror, though he kept his grip on the mirror to allow them to continue to listen.

"Headmaster," said Eftan. "Good morning."

Albus looked up sharply at his friends.

"Good morning, Griffiths. What exactly are you doing in an empty classroom at this hour, on the day you leave?"

Albus tensed fully. He looked over at Aidan and Alec.

_Drop the mirror,_ mouthed Aidan, pointing out the window.

Albus dropped the mirror immediately, severing the connection. He cushioned it against his robes before it hit the floor.

"Why'd you do that?" blurted Alec. "We could have listened in to Auchland! And don't you want to make sure Eftan comes out of that situation okay?"

"Yes, we do want to make sure of that," said Aidan. "And if Auchland had gotten close to Eftan and heard a rainstorm coming from his pocket, we can be sure he would _not_ come out of this okay."

"Fair point," said Alec.

They fell quiet to listen to the rain again, which (when they started paying attention to it) was much louder than Albus had realized.

"But I'm still a bit concerned about the possibility that they've figured Eftan out and drugged him with the Marionette's Medicine to have him lead us into a trap," said Aidan. "Is there any way we can be sure he's not doing that?"

Albus sighed. "Er…"

Alec cleared his throat and looked over at Aidan. "Well, he revealed himself to you and me just twelve hours ago. Through the mirror. Right? I assume the Fidelius Charm was involved beforehand?"

"It was," said Albus, seeing where Alec was going with this; Aidan nodded as well.

"He told us this plan right after you and I got let in on the Fidelius secret," said Alec. "But you can't reveal information under a Fidelius Charm unless your free will decides it. So he couldn't have been under mind control."

"Way to go, Alec," said Aidan encouragingly. "That was really smart!"

"Always the tone of surprise," muttered Alec.

"You've been having some great ideas lately," said Albus. "Keep it up!"

"Yeah, well, departing from the educational system can have a way of getting a man to actually think some thoughts."

"All right, then we're going," said Aidan. "Any reason to stick around any longer?"

"Eftan said we could leave now, but we haven't mentioned our way of instantly teleporting," said Albus. "So he probably overestimated our travel time. It may be a little while longer before Scorpius gets back."

"You just want to sit and listen to the rain longer," joked Alec.

"Honestly, I do," said Albus. "I never used to do it, but when every rain might be the last rain you experience… makes you stop and want to listen to it a little longer."

"All right," said Aidan. "We'll leave in an hour, then?"

"Cool," said Alec. "Then let's listen to the rain and _soak it in_. Get it? Soak?"

"Apologize for that."

They waited, and the rain continued. The sound was as cleansing as… well, as a good rainstorm. A few minutes later, though, the rain started to slow, and within ten it was gone.

"Aw," said Alec. "I was just getting into it."

In the newfound silence, though, they could hear a faint whirring.

"What is that?" mumbled Alec sleepily. "The wind?"

"No," said Albus, standing up. "Sneakoscope. Come on. Time to go."

"Do you think he could have found us here?" asked Aidan.

"Not taking the chance," said Albus. "If he's here, he wouldn't have come close enough to activate a Sneakoscope unless he was right about to bear down on us. We're going _now._"

"Another idea," said Alec. "Hold on to me and DO NOT LET GO under any circumstance until we've landed on solid ground."

Trusting Alec's judgment, they grabbed hold of their bags and put hands on his shoulders, as Alec seized his own bag and HERMAN's shoelaces.

They warped through the air, and then suddenly they were in intense, unbearable heat, so strong that the hot gusts forced Albus's eyes shut before he could take in where they were. All he saw was a flash of orange and red. They were falling through the air, for a few seconds, and the burning sensation was getting more and more severe, like his skin was about to boil, but he didn't dare let go of Alec and kept trusting him.

Then, they were yanked back up and out of the heat, and spilled onto a dark stretch of tall grass.

"Was the first place you took us on fire?" asked Albus as Aidan choked on whatever gases he had inhaled during their in-between stop.

"Not technically, I don't think," replied Alec calmly.

"What does _that_ mean?" coughed Aidan.

"We were in a volcano."

Aidan choked even harder.

"I took us to the volcano in Hawaii where the Spiro Toko school is," said Alec. "Been there a few times."

"Alec, you know how incredibly dangerous volcanoes are to wizards, right?" laughed Albus, lying down and letting the grass cover him. "Magic can't control magma at all, it's one of the only magic-resisting substances there is."

"I know," said Alec. "And since it's so dangerous, maybe it'll be really difficult to follow us through that path."

"Fair enough," said Aidan, straining his lungs to still their spasms.

"And I teleported us out when we were only like twenty feet from the lava, so hopefully Wilcox—"

"_TWENTY FEET?!_" blustered Aidan, descending into coughs anew.

"It seemed like enough, though in retrospect, I probably cut it a little close—"

"_A LITTLE?!_"

"So, where are we now?" asked Albus, looking around. "I can't tell, it's a bit foggy."

"We're in Finland," said Alec. "There's a house by this pond, but you can't see it in this fog. It's haunted, which is why I figured it'd be a good place to hide out. A group of teens took the Liner here and then their mangled, skinless bodies were found skewered on treetops nearby."

Aidan buried his face in his hands again. "Alec—"

"Relax, I was kidding about the last part," said Alec, grinning. "They went, but then they took the Liner back and said it was lame. I think the house is this way…"

"If Wilcox doesn't kill you…" started Aidan, but couldn't finish through the coughs.

They followed Alec away from the pond, and an old, imperial-looking wooden house emerged in the distance through the mist. A shiver ran down Albus's spine, though it may have also been because of the fact that it was December.

"What do you guys think, how long here before we go to pick up the stuff for our next trip?" asked Albus.

"I'd say another hour should be good," said Aidan.

"Agreed," said Alec. "Let's relax."

"I'm fine with waiting an hour, as long as it's inside where we can be warm," said Albus.

He opened the door, which squeaked at a nearly glass-shattering volume, and inside they could hear soft moans and angry breathing.

"Alec?" asked Aidan skeptically.

A voice drifted out the door. "_COME INSIDE… FUN… HAPPY…_"

"Oh, maybe I was confusing this with a different house," said Alec, concentrating in thought. "Oh! Right. This one _was_ the house where the teens were skinned and skewered."

"I'm fine with waiting outside," amended Albus.

"Let's go back to the volcano," said Aidan.

O

Scorpius sat with his arms folded, glaring at gray flowers in the gray flowerpot in the center of the table and occasionally looking up with vague boredom at his parents. Draco was sitting with his arms folded, glaring at the center of the table. Astoria was sitting with her arms folded, glaring at the center of the table.

"When are they getting here?" asked Draco impatiently, looking at his watch and then Scorpius, and then back to glaring at the gray flowers in the gray flowerpot in the center of the table.

"Eftan said he's pretty sure they're on their way," said Scorpius, "but as I am not directly in contact with them, I don't know exactly."

Draco huffed at the flowerpot.

"I sorely wish we were not a part of this," said Astoria, hooking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear.

"I share that sentiment, but unfortunately we don't have a choice," said Draco.

"You've given me no reason why we can't just hide and wait," said Astoria. "You know we'd be at least tolerated in whichever regime wins out."

Draco sighed. He looked up at his small family.

"Look," he said. "I haven't only been talking to Potter. There was… There was also this strange—"

A ripple went through the air, and the Malfoys paused. They both looked slightly upwards, and then suddenly three boys materialized right in front of their eyes, in a rather rougher fashion than by Apparition. Albus Potter, Aidan Finch-Fletchley, and Alec McKinnon shattered the gray flowerpot as they crashed directly on top of the table.

"Er… sorry, sir," said Finch-Fletchley, as they struggled to untangle themselves. "We used only a vague idea of your location and we, er… didn't intend to be so precise."

"Don't you get flowers to _brighten up_ a room?" asked McKinnon. "Who wants _gray_ flowers?"

Finch-Fletchley elbowed him.

Draco raised an eyebrow, glancing over at a pair of old and dirty-looking sneakers clutched in Potter's hands.

"Shoes off the table, boys?" said Astoria, eyeing the same thing.

"Sorry again," said Potter.

"We should probably leave as soon as possible, so let's move quickly," said Finch-Fletchley. "Sorry to be so businesslike, but, do you have what Eftan was asking you to get for us?"

"Here," said Scorpius, handing over a small bag. Potter looked inside it, sifting and pulling out each little bag of hair in turn, examining the photographs of the usual attire of the three teachers in question which were included in each bag to denote which hair belonged to which Hogwarts professor.

"It's all there," scoffed Draco, "we didn't short you. And weren't you in a hurry?"

"We are," said Potter. "Thank you so much. You won't regret having done this for us."

"I know," said Draco. "You've got some friends in some high places, Potter."

"Er, what?"

"Go," said Draco.

Potter nodded, and he motioned for his friends to come closer. They shuffled closer, all still on their arses on the previously clean table, sliding through all the soil from the crushed flowerpot. Finch-Fletchley and McKinnon placed hands on Potter's shoulders, and Potter grabbed the shoelaces of the shoes on the table. They vanished, sending a spray of dirt flying into the faces of each of the Malfoys, who snapped their eyes shut and waited.

Draco pried open his eyes slowly, sighing with equal labor.

"So," said Astoria. "What with your helping the Aurors with the cure to the Marionette's Medicine, and with having Albus Potter in our _house_… How can you _absolutely know_ this isn't going to backfire on us?"

"I had a little visit," said Draco, "to a place called the Abyssal Vortex."

Astoria tilted her head curiously.

"I'll explain," said Draco, "but it's going to get weird."

O

"God, I expected evil women to be ugly, but we're all unnervingly gorgeous," commented Alec.

Aidan ignored the comment. "All right," he said. "This is going to wear off eventually, so… the sooner we leave, the better."

He took his wand and placed it against his temple, and extracted a memory. It was a memory from when they were on the Overseas Rapid Rail, and the train had passed by Ilka. Aidan didn't fully detach the memory from his skull; instead, he muttered an incantation to sharpen the memory, and replaced it in his skull.

"Okay," said Aidan. "I've enhanced my memory to the extreme of the moment we passed by Ilka on the train, so I should have internalized the geographical location enough to be able to direct HERMAN there. If I don't get us directly onto Ilka's beach, hopefully we'll be within easy swimming distance."

Albus tried to recall his own memory of the incident—they looked out the train window to see an island the size of a small town, no bigger. The sun seemed to shine brighter in the few moments it took to pass further away. Though there was ice in the sea around the island, Ilka was green like a tropical rainforest.

Albus grabbed onto Aidan's shoulder, and so did Alec; they disappeared once more with HERMAN's assistance.

The next time they tumbled to a stop, it was on a very sandy beach in startling warmth. The enhanced sunlight they had seen was seemingly a purposeful maneuver to the point that Ilka felt like a tropical island, even though it was practically in the Arctic. That explained all the green.

Albus and company stood and cast a few quick spells to brush off the sand. They straightened up fully in the bodies of the menacing group of women they had become, and they looked around.

Albus turned to Aidan. "You're right," he said. "There's some sentries around the edge of the island."

To avoid suspicion, he knew they were going to have to go confront a sentry as soon as possible. He had prepared a full explanation as to why they had arrived without notice. They walked off towards the nearest one—an older-looking woman clutching a wand near the ports.

Albus had become Leslie Tetchel, the new Head of Slytherin House, so he supposed he might have been in command. With Alec and Aidan flanking him as Greta Pierce and Megan Crim, respectively, he cleared his throat as they approached the old sentry woman from behind.

"We've come from Hogwarts," he said in Tetchel's shrill chirp, "to check on the status of a project here."

The sentry woman didn't move.

Albus cleared his throat again, instantly fearing the worst from this reaction. "Don't bother anyone on our account," he said, keeping the nervousness out of his voice. "We'll just be in and out. Quick trip."

The sentry woman still didn't react.

Albus shuffled a bit around the side, to look at her more from the front. When he came into her peripheral vision, her dead-looking eyes swiveled slowly over to observe him, but she only stared like a zombie.

"We'll get going, then," he emphasized.

The sentry slowly brought her head up and down, in what would have been a nod if it were at any human speed. The exertion unhinged her jaw, which lowered slowly until it was agape as she finished her nod and stared at him.

Albus shuffled back around behind the sentry, and walked away.

"I don't like this," whispered Aidan as they walked off. "I don't like this at all. Something's wrong with that woman, and we're on the island uninvited with only having told her. We're going to be found and they're going to know we're not who we say we are, there's clearly some protocol that doesn't involve the sentries or else she was acting so weird because she recognized us!"

"Maybe she was afraid of us," offered Alec, "and nearly paralyzed with fear?"

"We haven't been stopped yet," whispered Albus as they left the beach and stepped onto a stone pathway leading towards the center of the island. "And we have HERMAN. I think we need to stay here—this is exactly the sort of place that last Shadow's Engine could be, with all the weird stuff going on around here."

They looked around. In the center of the town, one might have expected to see children playing with the soccer nets on the lawns, or conversing in the streets, or browsing the shops. Instead, it was all so dead that there could have been tumbleweeds blowing. Most of the green on the island was from the vines that grew unfettered around the houses.

They looked into these houses as they passed, and realized they stood out like sore thumbs in this place. Almost everyone was wearing gray or dull-colored clothing—or had they just worn the same clothes for years until the colors faded? The people were sitting inside at tables, staring at each other like mannequins in stores. For the first few dozen houses, Albus wondered if they _were_ all mannequins in these houses, until he noticed that, of the people facing them, every eye followed them as they walked towards the center of town.

"What the hell is with this town," muttered Alec.

They passed a street cleaner. A man walked lazily by, charming a broom to sweep the streets. But there was nothing to sweep up, as there hadn't seemed to have been a living person on the streets (apart from the street cleaner) for who knew how long. He had a dead look in his eyes as he focused single-mindedly on his task.

A door opened to their left, and the three boys disguised as the three teachers jumped nearly out of their new skins. A woman left the house, and crossed the street in front of them to the grocery store. She walked with purpose, but her head lolled to one side like she had forgotten how to keep it upright. She opened the door to the market, and walked inside. The boys slowed their pace as they passed, to watch. The woman simply gathered up some food and walked back out, without paying. A clerk watched her go with complete disinterest, and then went back to staring blankly at the cash register. The woman walked back into her house; through the window, they watched her dump the food on the floor in front of her husband and children, whereupon she and her family began grabbing pieces of bread and fruit and mechanically eating them.

"Let's get this done andget the hell out of here, Albus," hissed Alec. "This place is creeping the—"

Aidan's hand shot up and clamped over Alec's mouth; his eyes looked wild. Alec looked confused, until he heard a brushing sound behind him, and his eyes grew until they matched Aidan's. The three of them stopped dead in the middle of the street. Albus tried to figure out what was concerning Aidan so greatly, until he realized that the street sweeper was _directly behind them,_ and had been in full earshot of Alec using Albus's real name.

The street sweeper paid zero attention, and bumped into Alec from behind. "Pardon," he muttered. Alec's hand descended to his wand.

The street sweeper walked forward again, and bumped into Alec again. "Pardon," he said. Then he walked right into Alec yet again. "Pardon."

This went on for about fifteen seconds, until Alec stepped to the side, and the street sweeper walked by, looking no less interested in what had happened than anyone looked about anything in Ilka.

"Okay, I'm with Alec," breathed Aidan. "There's something seriously wrong with this place."


	12. Werora of the Waves

_**Last chapter wasn't that long so I'll throw you another one.**_

_**I finished Chapter 25 today and there aren't that many left now. Once I feel like I'm within a week or two of finishing, I'll start uploading a lot.**_

_**Funny story. I went to my inbox right after uploading the last chapter (I completely ignored my email that entire hiatus because I knew it would completely overwhelm me), and, crazy enough, the email telling me that I just uploaded the newest chapter was the exactly 1000th unread email in my inbox. I absolutely could not believe it; I was stunned until I laughed myself silly. It was like a dove landing with an olive branch in its mouth. Like a divine promise that I'd been forgiven or something.**_

_**So, I read through every single review and PM. And I honestly cried a bit, and only out of happiness (I didn't care about any of the negativity because I knew I made the right decision for myself and for all of you, because it allowed me to be in my best state possible to finish this series in the best and most efficient way I could). It made me so happy to see how much positivity there was out there even after I couldn't maintain my promises and expectations. I can't respond to all of the personal messages, of course... maybe someday, but not right now, there are literally hundreds. Just know right now, for those of you who were there the whole time, I saw you. Thank you. You're the reason I worked hard to make the back half of this book the best yet, and I really think it is. I'm super pleased with how everything turned out and I hope you are too; I believe you will be!**_

_**Also, can I just say, some people have expressed theories that are really impressively close to the target. I won't say exactly who, of course, but you'll find out soon... And there will be some hints dropped in this chapter that may illuminate events to come even more.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

WERORA OF THE WAVES

O

"We know Werora rules here," said Albus. "Could it be some sort of mass brainwashing?"

"But you would think she would have programmed everyone to attack intruders," said Aidan, "and that guy didn't do anything when Alec said your name out loud."

"Maybe he just didn't hear us," said Alec.

"Or maybe processing that much information to determine my identity was too much for their dulled heads," said Albus. "Maybe they only have enough brainpower left to be programmed to attack on _sight,_ and we look like Hogwarts teachers who have been here before."

"Whatever it is, it looks like we have free reign to do anything we want without being questioned," said Alec. "Should we pull out the Hocus-Focuser? Find out if it's here or not?"

"But what if there are a few people out here who aren't brainwashed—who are Wilcox's henchmen?" said Aidan.

"Invisibility?" suggested Alec.

"I'll go under the Invisibility Cloak," said Albus. "I'll use the Hocus-Focuser unseen. You two just follow me."

"You'll be invisible," noted Alec.

"I'll Connect to both of you," said Albus, "and give you directions."

He cast the Connectivity Charm on both Alec and Aidan, and they cast it on each other as well; looking around, they stepped into an alley that was reasonably secluded, and Albus pulled on the Invisibility Cloak and extracted the Hocus-Focuser.

_It's already faintly pulling,_ thought Albus excitedly as he watched the bird jerking its head in one direction.

_Well, this is a small island,_ thought Aidan. _That's promising! I was worried that this risk might be for nothing, but if there's a Devoctrix here… what else could it be?_

_Let's get to the search, then,_ thought Alec. _Which way is it pulling?_

_Towards the end of the alley, but that's a dead-end,_ thought Albus._ Let's head around this building. I'll circle around the right side, since that's the way we were initially headed, closer to the middle of the island._

They followed the bird's lead. Albus directed them silently towards Ilka's center, and as they got closer, they started to see a few people moving with more purpose than most of the island's zombies. Many of them were carrying large bags of food, and distributing them to the small markets around the island. A factory of tremendous proportions sat on a small hill in the middle of the island, from which several sizeable streams flowed. Many sane-looking individuals were entering and exiting the premises, and the bird led them directly there.

_Well, we didn't think this was going to be as easy as walking in and destroying it and walking out,_ thought Albus. _Should I take the Cloak off? In case they check for concealment?_

_Definitely,_ thought Aidan and Alec at the same time.

They stepped behind a building, checked to make sure no one with an active brain was watching, and Albus slipped the Cloak off. They emerged from the shadows, still in the guises of the three Hogwarts professors, and they set off towards the factory with Albus in the lead.

A man passed by, carrying a sack from which many loaves of bread were sticking out. He yipped ever so quietly when he noticed the three women walking towards him, and walked swiftly past, averting his eyes.

_Good sign,_ thought Alec. _Looks like they're afraid to confront us._

_Yeah, that is good,_ thought Albus. _Remember to play it up if we do get confronted. Act like we have no reason for our presence or actions to be questioned._

"What are you doing here?"

Albus glanced over his shoulder at the voice. A man and a woman, both looking irritated, were approaching them from behind, with wands out.

"We've come for a routine investigation," said Albus, praying inwardly that this was something that happened. _Don't stop moving,_ he warned his friends.

"Yes, we understand that," said the man, "but you were scheduled for a half hour from now, and you've never been anything but exactly on time."

"Forgive us for our caution," said the woman, "but we're going to need you to prove your identities to us immediately."

"I do _not_ forgive your caution," said Albus, whirling around and mustering up all of the venom he could only assume would come from a woman who hung out with Greta Pierce. "Evidently, if we have come early, then there is a _reason_ for our haste, and we do not have the time to explain to someone with no authority over us."

The two both started. "Excuse us?" said the woman. "No authority? You are visiting _our_ island, and the Magistrate will not tolerate—"

"The _Magistrate_ is only in command so long as we are not inconvenienced by her rule," snapped Aidan. "Do not take your chances with the Man in the Shadows—you have no chance. Now leave us."

"Remember," said Albus, "the only reason it is still 'your island' is because you haven't gotten in our way yet."

Both of the Ilcians narrowed eyes at Albus's group, but they said nothing when Albus turned and began to walk away again.

_Close one,_ thought Albus. _Good acting._

_We're screwed if we stay here for a half hour, though,_ thought Alec, _because apparently, from what those two told us, the real teachers scheduled a visit today, for a half hour from now!_

_We should have thought this through! _thought Aidan._ Why did we come on the same day all of the Hogwarts students headed home and the teachers' schedules became free? Of COURSE there was going to be a visit today!_

_We can't worry about it,_ thought Albus. _All we can do is use it as motivation to get this done as fast as possible. We need to head into the factory with purpose._

The boys hurried up the hill. As they walked, Albus looked over at the streams, and realized that they weren't feeding _out_ of the factory—they were feeding _into_ the factory. The streams were enchanted; they were flowing uphill.

_Wonder what they need this much water for,_ thought Alec.

A few reasons came to Albus's head; steam-powered machinery was one thought, but Ilka was a place obsessed with magic, and they hated anything Muggle, from what he'd heard. It seemed unlikely that they would borrow anything from the Muggle world as non-magical as steam engines. And what would they need electricity for on this tiny magical island, anyway?

_To create the Shadow's Engine,_ was one thought.

They stepped up to the door, and Albus opened it without hesitation in case anyone was watching.

It wasn't what he had expected—inside the factory was an enormous farm, like the one in the Hourglass Empire. All along the floor, and even up along the walls, food plants grew; fruit trees and vines, vegetable patches, fields and fields of wheat and corn. There were no livestock he could see, and now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen meat in any of the markets, either. But the amount of food being grown here was staggering. It had to have been enough to feed the entire island and more, just from this one factory building. That was why the streams were directed up here.

_Wait a second,_ thought Aidan. _This place has a ceiling made of glass. Open to the enhanced sunlight around this island. And the streams are directed _uphill_ to this farm?_

_Is that important?_ asked Alec.

_It explains what's going on with most of the island's inhabitants,_ thought Aidan. _When you alter the growing of food with magic—even indirectly, like magically enhanced sunlight, or magically irrigated streams—you taint the food with magic. If you eat too much food that's been affected by magic, you get magical food poisoning. It damages the brain; makes you unable to think properly. After a while, you're unable to think at all!_

_That sounds like exactly the sort of way to subjugate an entire population,_ thought Albus. _Didn't Desulgon say Werora "recently" conquered Ilka? And Aanmar Vioulii was apparently a casualty of the coup that occurred there—this must have been what happened. Most of the population got sick with magical food poisoning, and when a few people like Vioulii realized what was happening, it was too late. People like Vioulii were killed when they resisted, and Werora conquered the island._

_Should we… try to help these people?_ wondered Alec, looking nervously around to Albus and Aidan.

_We can't,_ thought Aidan. _There's no way we can stop the food poisoning, and it would take a long time for them to recover, if they can recover at all by this point. Magical food poisoning over an extended period of time does serious damage to the stomach and brain, and apparently this has been going on for two years._

_But maybe we can destroy this factory, and the Shadow's Engine which appears to be beneath it,_ thought Albus, taking out the Hocus-Focuser briefly; the bird was pointed straight down. _Maybe that'll make it look like there was another coup on the island, and the Shadow's Engine was destroyed during the liberation by accident, not that anyone was aiming for it. Then maybe Wilcox won't realize someone was after the Shadow's Engine—_

_Albus, listen to yourself,_ thought Aidan. _Remember Heath, the guy on the train who might have killed those kids? We can't take that chance! The real Tetchel, Pierce, and Crim are going to be here in under a half hour. Can we liberate an entire island—and defeat another Dismiusa-like Devoctrix user—in under half an hour?_

_No,_ thought Albus. _You're right._

_We'll add this to our list of things to do after we save the world,_ ventured Alec. _Kill that Heath bastard. Set Ilka free. Anything else?_

_Eat, maybe,_ thought Aidan. _When was the last time we did that?_

_Well, we're in a food factory?_ noted Alec.

_A factory that creates contaminated food,_ reminded Aidan. _Not worth it._

_Let's get to it, then,_ thought Albus.

He took out the Hocus-Focuser. The bird inside was bobbing its head up and down as it flew diagonally downwards, pointing under the factory floor.

_Now how do we get under the factory without rousing suspicion?_ asked Albus. He looked around; the only people in here were zombie-like members of the Ilka population, but a disturbance still might trigger an alarm, or some higher-up might notice like the two Ilcians from outside.

"_Portavis,_" said Aidan, flicking his wand.

The door behind them burned in a bright blue-violet color. Below them, in the cornfields, a lime-green light simultaneously glowed.

_Trapdoor, under the corn,_ thought Aidan. _Looks like the direction that the Hocus-Focuser was pointing._

_What's the difference between the color of the glow?_ asked Alec.

_Indigo points you to the exits. Green directs you further inside. That door down there is probably what we want, then._

They stepped quickly but calmly towards the glow in the cornfields. As they passed some of the workers, pulling up corn, a few of the people glanced in their direction, with narrowed, calculating eyes, before returning to their work.

_I think these ones are faking,_ thought Aidan. _They're only pretending to be zombies while we're in here, or else they're mind-controlled. Be very careful about what you do or say out loud._

They walked onward with purpose, until they reached the trapdoor in the cornfield. They collectively froze as they realized they had no idea how to open the door; it was sealed shut, disguised as just another section of the cornfield, and there was no visible handle or other apparatus to open it.

_Crap,_ thought Albus. _What do we do? Stun all the workers, force one to talk?_

_We could try a few spells first,_ thought Alec.

_They would realize we're intruders. The longer we stand here obviously puzzling over what to do, the more chance they'll figure out what we're doing._

_Let's get to Stunning,_ agreed Aidan. _On three?_

The three waited silently; a few workers looked up skeptically from the fields. Then, suddenly, the boys all unleashed a silent but furious barrage of Stunning spells aimed at every person in the field. By the time any of the dozen Ilcians had drawn their wands, they were all lying face-down and immobile.

"Let's hurry this up, this isn't going to go unnoticed for long," said Albus, running towards one of the workers. "_Incarcerous._"

Binding the man's hands and feet, Albus dragged him over to the trapdoor and revived him from the Stun.

"Tell us how to get in," said Alec. "We'll snap one of your bones every time you lie."

"Y-you just say the password!" stuttered the panicked Ilcian.

"Which is?" pressed Aidan, lowering his wand between the man's eyes.

"_Werora of the Waves!_" yelped the poor man.

Upon the words, the trapdoor flashed and swung downwards; Alec was standing close and almost fell directly through, and he staggered away from the opening.

"Thanks," said Albus, and Stunned the man again; tossing him aside, he jumped down and slid down the slope that led under the factory.

_No alarm yet,_ thought Aidan, following, with Alec right behind him. _So at least there's that… We need to find this thing and destroy it as absolutely soon as possible. Our available time for this mission is decreasing a lot faster than we thought._

_Follow me,_ thought Albus, pulling out the Hocus-Focuser. Under the factory was a maze, some sort of labyrinth designed to confuse intruders, which probably necessitated memorization of the correct paths. But Albus watched the Hocus-Focuser and took whichever path was closest to the direction in which the bird was pointing.

After about a minute, an alarm blared through the factory just as they reached the end of a tunnel with nothing else there. Albus cursed; the bird inside the Hocus-Focuser was absolutely frantic now, so the Shadow's Engine could very well be behind that very wall, but they'd reached a dead end. He turned around and started to head back in the direction they'd come, but Aidan slapped a hand on his shoulder.

_What is it?_ thought Albus, turning back around, looking for something he'd missed.

"_Portavis,_" repeated Aidan, leveling his wand at the dead end.

A lime-green, door-shaped glow generated at the stretch of wall in front of them.

"_Werora of the Waves,_" said Alec hopefully.

The wall shifted with a loud creak, and then the stone dissolved away in front of them. Albus raced through excitedly, pulling out his wands for a quick Shatterbolt to the Shadow's Engine… but quickly realized that this pathway had not led to the Shadow's Engine.

He was standing in a throne room that was dimly lit by blue-green flame. The flames were held by ornate floating torches whose shadows danced across the placid blue pools, which filled most of the room and surrounded the throne like a moat. In the center of the moat was a small sand island holding a throne that looked like it was constructed from brilliantly-colored, living coral. Sitting in the throne was a woman, whose blue eyes bulged like a fish's as gills on her neck pulsed. Shell earrings dangled next to her jet-black hair. She stood up, her icy blue dress billowing, with her pale blue-gray webbed fingers clutching a wizened wand.

_Werora of the Waves,_ thought Aidan, gulping audibly.

_We're screwed,_ thought Alec.

_She's a Devoctrix-user,_ thought Albus, cursing inwardly away from their internal conversation. _The Hocus-Focuser was pointing to HER the whole time…_

Werora studied them carefully, and half a dozen guards ran out in front of her, aiming their wands. They looked bred specifically for combat, either well-trained or brainwashed, and they took deep breaths in preparation for incantations.

_We need to get out of sight and ride HERMAN out of here,_ thought Aidan.

"Intruders followed us here, Magistrate!" announced Alec in a feeble attempt at covering for them. "We've come to help protect you—"

Not buying the story, the guards began firing spells at them. Aidan threw on a shield, but the spells were unnaturally powerful and began to penetrate almost immediately.

"Let's _go!_" bellowed Aidan, and they turned around back the way they came.

Albus turned around, but his progress was slowed as he attempted to extract HERMAN from his pack, and in the slight delay, the stone door fazed back into existence and he slammed right into it.

_Albus!_ came Aidan's frantic thought, and as Albus turned around in all directions, he realized that Alec and Aidan were on the other side of the door. He heard Alec shouting the password again, but there was no reaction from the barrier.

He turned to begin parrying the spells, but there were too many of them. He cast a Jumping Charm and leapt far away from the spells; he reached to clutch HERMAN's shoelaces, intending to teleport just to the other side of the door—

A wide pulse shot from Werora's wand, and when it passed over HERMAN, he felt its energy go out like a gust of wind on a candle. He crashed into a shallow pool and scrambled to his feet to defend himself; Werora had done something to intercept HERMAN's power, and he was on his own again. But he had defeated a hundred duelists on his own, and he could take these six… right?

"_Ahoulagata!_" roared Werora, slashing her wand in a hoop. From unseen gutters, waves of water soared into the room, and began filling it further with water. Werora suddenly ducked and disappeared beneath the waves, and she could have gone anywhere.

Albus ducked and weaved out of the way of a barrage of spellwork from her guards, Dissipating a pair of Full Body-Binds aimed at his feet, and fired off a spell that froze the shallow pools. Two of the guards had their feet stuck, and another two slipped and fell on the slick surface; Albus fired Stunners at all four of them, and a pair met their mark. He kept on pushing his advantage, but the two guards he'd struck were quickly revived by Werora, who had emerged behind the throne; she began casting subtle charms that fueled her guards' attacks. She was also moving her other hand in a strange fashion, and Albus felt the surrounding water start to climb his legs like a hoard of ants. He tried to leap high into the air again, but the liquid had a hold of him like he was stuck in quicksand, and he crashed face-first into the water—

Right before the guards set upon him, the wall next to the door was blasted apart with a Shatterbolt, and Alec stood there with his wand still crackling with electricity; Aidan was feeding energy into Alec's wands as Alec prepared another Shatterbolt. Werora's guard combined forces to shift the entire throne island out of the path of the next Shatterbolt, but Werora was still focused on Albus, who was momentarily freed by the distraction.

_Calcify!_ thought Albus, thrusting his wand in Werora's direction, hoping that if he could at least blast Werora out of her senses, maybe the spell that was suppressing HERMAN would be lifted long enough for them to escape. Defeating her seemed out of the question—

But as Werora cast a spell simultaneously with him, and as their spells intercepted, something incredible happened yet again.

From the place where Albus's and Werora's spells struck each other, a red glow encased both jets from both wands. Albus's hand locked onto his wand, and both he and Werora began to rise into the air.

_While they're distracted!_ thought Albus to his friends, then set his concentration back on the connection—another _Priori Incantatem?_ Like what happened with Herpo the Foul? But _why?_

Alec and Aidan swiftly took out four of the six guards while they stared in fright and awe at what was happening above them, and then they quickly dispatched the other two once the numbers were even. Then, they stared back up at Albus with trepidation.

_Albus, is this Priori Incantatem like you said happened with Herpo?_ thought Aidan to him. _What is going on?!_

_I need to concentrate!_ thought Albus back, and then pushed all his energy into his wand. The ground began to crack around them, but the water didn't drain—it was all sucked up towards Werora, and surrounded her in a whirlpool, as Albus began to rise up on a mound of earth heaving under his feet. Boulders burst through the tiled floor; bursts of flame and crackling lightning ejected from the center of their connection. Beads of light were forming throughout the connected jets, and they were heading in Albus's direction. A dome of lightning in the form of a web surrounded them.

Albus heard Aidan and Alec shouting below him; they had rushed under him before the lightning web had formed. Then he felt a surge of power. Looking down, he saw Aidan and Alec both channeling their own magical energy into the back of his wand, and he knew he could overpower Werora.

She was a super-ancient Devoctrix user like Dismiusa, perhaps, but he had been in Priori Incantatem before, and he already knew what to do. Focusing on the beads of light along their connection, he used all of his energy combined with Alec's and Aidan's help, and he powered the orbs forward until they struck Werora's wand.

She yelped out in pain, and there was a blinding flash of white light. Suddenly, the mountain on which he was standing collapsed, and something enormous burst into the room from out of thin air. The gutters burst and the level of water in the room swelled, and Albus plunged into deep, freezing water. He and his friends surfaced just in time to see something incredible.

A monstrous dark shape rose and crashed in front of them. A thick tail whipped over their heads and slammed into Werora, who flew into the air, bounced off the ceiling and crashed hard against the far wall; she peeled off and plummeted, splashing into the water and sinking below the waves again, next to her coral throne that was now bobbing on the surface.

There was a roar that shook the walls around them, and then the dark form cresting just under the water descended and disappeared; the level of water in the room began to drop again, and the boys felt their feet touch ground. The water drained completely, and the coral throne deposited itself sideways on the sand island, next to Werora, whose neck was snapped at such an angle that there was no way she could still be alive.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" screamed Alec, drenched, shivering, and wild-eyed. "What was _any_ of that?"

"I don't know!" yelled Albus back, trudging over to his friends, his clothes weighted down from being soaking wet. He cast a spell to dry himself out, and his friends did the same. "That was one of our unsolved mysteries: why my wand connected to Herpo the Foul's. And why now to Werora's?!"

"Something to do with the Devs, maybe," said Aidan. "You, Herpo, and Werora have all used them!"

Albus extracted HERMAN, and he was relieved to feel HERMAN's energy radiating forth again. They could get out of here. Through his open pack, he could also see the Hocus-Focuser; on a whim, he extracted it.

He gasped.

_It's still pointing—but it's pointing in a different direction now!_ he exclaimed inwardly, and Alec and Aidan rushed towards him to look.

_The Shadow's Engine could still be here,_ thought Aidan excitedly.

_Does that mean she's definitely dead—if it's not pointing to her anymore?_ asked Alec cautiously.

_Unfortunately, I have to hope so,_ thought Albus. _We don't need any more enemies hunting us down or any more Horcruxes to hunt down ourselves; hopefully she didn't have any._

_Let's get going towards the Shadow's Engine,_ thought Aidan. _We're not going to be welcome here much longer—_

On cue, twenty more Ilcians charged in through the hole in the wall. Some gave gasps of horror at seeing the mangled body of their Magistrate, but most began firing spells without pause. Overwhelmed by numbers—these were very trained duelists—Albus, Alec, and Aidan fell back; Aidan was struck on the shoulder and twisted to the ground, striking hard where there was no longer water, and blood began flowing from his smashed nose.

"You fools!" shouted Alec, trying again. "The assassins just left!"

The duelists stopped briefly, and looked at each other.

For a moment, Albus thought it was going to work. Then the guards whom Aidan had Stunned stood up, coughing up water they had swallowed while unconscious; Aidan's fall had freed them from his spells. Knowing they had seconds before the guards gave them away, Albus revived Aidan and held up HERMAN. _Grab on!_ he thought to his friends.

The guards pointed at them, still choking, and tried to form words; a few of the new attackers realized what was going on, and set themselves to fight again, but Albus, Alec, and Aidan had disappeared.

They reappeared inside the stone maze, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn't ended up inside a wall. He lit up his wand and followed the Hocus-Focuser's lead. _Aidan, you okay?_

_Bloody fine,_ thought Aidan, clearing up his face and fixing the bend in his nose.

_The bird is still frantic. I think we're already close._

As they ran, he kept an eye on the bird—and as they passed a certain point, the bird suddenly swung downwards in its confinement and then pressed its beak against the opposite side.

_Under us!_ said Albus. _Look for a passage down!_

"_Portavis!_" called out Aidan once again, but nothing glowed that they could see, even when Albus temporarily put out his wand to check around the dark corners of the maze.

_Why bother?_ asked Alec. _Why not just send a Shatterbolt into the ground? It'll tear right through the floor and go straight into the Shadow's Engine._

_Probably the best plan we'd get at this point,_ said Aidan, _and time is of the essence! Let's just back up and do it!_

They retreated, and Alec gestured to Albus and Aidan. "One of you guys get it," he said. "I already did one and I feel like I'm drained."

Aidan leveled his wand, and Albus and Alec retreated slightly farther. "_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus—Expulterris!_"

He aimed his wand exactly in the direction the bird was pointing, and the spell tore through the floor as Alec predicted, into a large, cavernous chamber hidden underneath the tunnel. For a moment, through the deafening sounds of the Shatterbolt, they could also hear a mechanical grinding from the machine, and then there was an explosion from below as the Shatterbolt tore through the machinery. A container of some sort burst open, and boiling blood erupted through the hole in the chamber's ceiling, lashing into Aidan's face; he cried out in pain and cast frantic healing spells, but the machine collapsed inward and there was only rubble and charred metal left.

"That's absolutely _disgusting!_" bellowed Aidan in between heaving breaths. "But it worked!" He switched to their thought-based communication. _To Antarctica! Right now, before Wilcox hears about this and sends the Antarctic one away!_

"Okay!" said Albus, and Aidan and Alec clapped hands on his shoulders again, and he grasped HERMAN's shoelaces.

They were instantly teleported to Antarctica. They tumbled onto the ice above the next Shadow's Engine, with Aidan leaving a trail of blood in the snow that Albus dearly hoped was not his own, despite however disgusting it would be if it was the mixed-up blood of thousands of witches and wizards. Momentarily putting aside his worry about blood-borne illnesses, he leveled his wands towards the dark shape under the ice; looked like it was his turn for a Shatterbolt.

"_Cumaestis—_"

_Hold up!_ thought Aidan as he coughed up blood. _Are you sure that's definitely the Engine down there, and not something else?_

Albus took out the Hocus-Focuser, and stared at it. The bird was pointing down, but not precisely towards the dark shape he'd taken to be the last Engine.

_Good catch,_ thought Albus. _It's not._

_So where's the real deal?_ asked Alec.

Albus stared at the Hocus-Focuser for some time, trying to gauge the exact direction, but something was off…

_It's moving,_ thought Albus, his heart sinking. _It's moving! Away from us._

_No, no, no!_ thought Aidan, rushing forward to look at the bird. _That means either they're relocating it, or they're about to USE it!_

The bird was now pointing directly under their feet; looking down, they could vaguely see a dark shape moving slowly, deep under the ice.

They chased it as it began to pick up speed; Albus paused for a second to pull out his broom from his pack, and his friends followed, jumping on their own. They sailed after the shape, following the Hocus-Focuser's directions when the shape disappeared under a thicker white layer of snow, as a snowstorm brewed and stung their already chilled bodies. Then, they burst out from the storm, over the open ocean, and looking down, they could see an ovular shape picking up speed away from them.

_It's a submarine!_ thought Alec, adding a few choice curse words with the observation.

_It could be going anywhere, and it's getting faster,_ thought Aidan. _How are we going to track it?_

_Keep teleporting in front of it with HERMAN?_ thought Alec, as the submarine began to pull away from them.

_They'll see us coming when they're about to reach their destination,_ thought Aidan. _Or what if they direct it towards London and set it off while the submarine is still underwater? How are we going to stop it?_

_We can jack the Loch Stock Liner,_ thought Alec.

_But by the time we get the Liner, IF we manage to hijack it,_ argued Aidan,_ we'll have no idea where this submarine is—_

_The Liner can track it—_

_Do you know how to operate it?_

_I can figure it out!_

_Can you figure it out in time?!_

As his friends argued, Albus was developing a plan of his own, and he grimaced as he imagined what would happen if it went wrong. But he grimaced worse at the damage this submarine was about to do as it started to speed and descend out of sight, still accelerating—

"GRAB ON TO ME!" he yelled. "And don't let go!"

His friends, trusting his judgment, looked his way briefly in confusion but then both directed their brooms at him. Albus took HERMAN out once again.

_I'm so sorry if this doesn't work out,_ he thought, but only to himself. And then he grasped HERMAN's shoelaces and imagined teleporting directly into the interior of the submarine.


	13. Inner Nature

_**I wanted to post this chapter pretty close to the others because there's a big reveal. There may be a slightly longer gap before the next few chapters are uploaded, but after that, there will probably be multiple weekly uploads all the way through to the end.**_

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

INNER NATURE

O

_YES!_ was Albus's first thought as they tumbled onto a dry metallic surface, which could only mean that they had successfully entered the submarine's interior.

_No,_ was his second thought, as he opened his eyes and looked into the situation they'd entered inside the submarine.

They were in a prison cell—how the hell had he managed to teleport them _exactly_ into the ship's brig? The walls were glowing and humming softly, and as Aidan took out his wand, Albus thought he knew what was happening. Aidan tried to cast a spell to bust them out, but there was only a pop and a fizzle from his wand as a thin line of smoke drifted out. Still clutching HERMAN's shoelaces, he could feel that HERMAN's power was being suppressed as well. They were in a magic-proof cage.

A guard had been standing at the edge of the cage. She leapt up when she heard them hit the floor, and looking in, she seemed utterly horrified.

"Madams!" she exclaimed. "I am so sorry—the prison is built so that if the ship is in motion, anyone trying to enter is directed directly in here!"

Albus had almost forgotten that they were still in the disguises of Tetchel, Pierce, and Crim, the Hogwarts professors.

"Well, open it then!" he snapped.

The guard snapped to attention. "I don't have the authority, ma'am, but I will get someone else right away!" She bolted out.

_They're going to figure out it's a disguise,_ thought Aidan as they stashed their brooms back in their bags. _We need to get out of here. No spells are going to work._

_A Devoctrix?_ wondered Alec. _Don't suppose any of the ones we know can get us out of here?_

_A portal, but you also need to make an "out" portal, and the only one we could make would be in here,_ thought Albus. _Damn! This can't be happening… We were so close!_

_Focus,_ pleaded Aidan, _it's not over until it's over. What else do we know?_

Albus felt, at the same time, waves of both determination and doubt, ripples of ferocity and fear.

_I can do something else that supersedes the normal laws of magic._

Directly or indirectly, he had caused the circumstances that led to Werora's death. Was it he who had summoned that massive creature in Werora's chamber, a pet Kelpie perhaps, that he had subconsciously mind-controlled? Accidental or subconsciously purposeful, he had caused Werora's death, and it reminded him of all the other deaths linked to his mad quest. The Sandblood leaders, most recently… possibly Lucas, even.

He began to shake. He had very recently used the Chaos Drain to rid himself of the Contagion boiling up inside him, but it was an endless source. Instead of just letting it slowly leak out, he simply had to unplug the drain…

_NO, Albus, we don't know how well you can actually control that!_ argued Aidan, knowing what he was about to do. But Albus didn't care. Their journey couldn't end here, just a few feet away from the thing that could kill millions of people if they didn't destroy it. Even if his mind was lost, Alec and Aidan could finish the job, maybe even subdue him and carry him around until they could cure him.

He opened his mouth in a roar, but this time, having drained the Chaos Contagion so many times before, he somewhat understood how to direct it. Rather than chasing his friends, he compelled the Contagion to smash down the bars in front of their jail cell. He could feel the insanity fighting against his will, desperate like a starving predator to attack the nearest prey. But he would not have another death on his hands. Though it was searing pain to do so, he controlled the Contagion by picturing all the deaths he'd caused. He used the sorrow to power his conscious mind, knowing that he couldn't let that happen to anyone else. Focusing his intent so keenly, watching his surroundings was no longer like looking through a telescope from far away; he was getting better control of it.

And then, the guard rushed back into the prison block, and she was accompanied by none other than Madam Duopold. Both already had their wands out, either expecting that they were imposters or having heard the crash, or both. And though Albus was successfully restraining the Chaos Contagion from attacking his friends, he was not yet strong enough to prevent it from lashing out against the woman towards whom he felt so much roiling, underlying fury. The violet-black goop billowed directly at Duopold, prompted by his subconscious ill will towards her.

Duopold shrieked; she knew what this was. She dove behind the guard, and her cowardly ruse worked: Upon turning to chase her, the Chaos Contagion slammed into the guard, unaffected by her frantic spellwork. She screamed as the Contagion drained itself into her mouth, her nose, her ears, her eyes, and she was lifted into the air by the suctioning force. Then the guard dropped back down to the ground like a ragdoll, and Albus would have thought she were dead if not for the frantic giggling that was escaping her lips as she pulled her legs up into the fetal position, barely breathing through her manic laughter.

_No,_ he thought, horrified by the fate that had befallen this woman who was either misguided or mind-controlled. But there would be time to grieve later. And he needed to channel his grief into making her sacrifice worthwhile: by stopping this ship before it blew up every Muggle in London.

Duopold was gone by the time Albus recovered full control of his body and senses on the floor of the busted prison cell. Alec lifted him up, looking regretful but determined; Aidan stood by, merely looking disgusted and horrified.

"Time to go do what we came here to do," said Albus seriously, to communicate to Aidan that his facets were entirely returned, however unfortunate the circumstances had been leading up to it.

Aidan gathered up his bag slowly. "Tell me honestly. Was that on purpose?"

"It was not, I promise," said Albus. "Although Duopold would have rightly deserved it if she had gotten it, I would have held more control over myself if I could have. Please, though, we have to go!"

But a strange effect was spreading throughout the room: the jail cell, which had been broken, was still functioning in its purpose of subduing all magical activity inside its confines. With the confinement now open to the air, whatever was suppressing the magic was now spreading out into the rest of the submarine.

"Hurry!" pressed Alec. "Before we can't cast a Shatterbolt to destroy it!"

They sped through the submarine, which was surprisingly large and cavernous; there were dozens of workers in the main room into which they broke next. They were sitting at chairs, looking up to see what the ruckus was about as Albus, Alec, and Aidan ran through over their heads on a raised bridge over the work area. Some shouted out and immediately Disapparated, occasionally leaving behind body parts such as earlobes or fingers in their haste; some pulled out their wands but were no match for Alec's dueling prowess, as he led the way casting spells; they didn't seem to be trained for combat, just for navigation. Albus chanced a glance behind; he could see a slight vibration in the walls behind them, moving in their direction almost as fast as they were running.

"We've got to find this thing FAST!" yelled Albus.

Alec jumped down to the ground level and grabbed an unconscious worker by the throat. "Where's the Shadow's Engine?" he growled, reviving him but restraining his arms and legs with rope.

"This is a trading vessel!" yelped the worker. "We're headed to London to pick up some tea!"

Alec tossed him into the side of the ship harshly, where he struck his head and bounced off, leaving a spatter of red behind him as he crumpled to the ground in pain. He grabbed up the next worker and yelled in her face the same question. "_WHERE IS THE SHADOW'S ENGINE?_"

"Th—This is a trading vessel," stammered the worker. "We're headed to London to pick up some tea!"

"You can quit with the games," Alec snarled, looking behind him to see the magic-resisting aura drawing nearer as Albus and Aidan were almost all the way through the room. "We _know_ it's here, now tell me or I'll do worse to you than I did to him!" He jabbed his thumb at the previous worker, rolling around in a growing puddle of red.

"This is a trading vessel!" she cried. "We're headed to London to pick up some tea!"

"Is that all you people can say?" barked Alec.

"This is a trading vessel!" she cried again. "We're headed to London to pick up some tea!"

"Oh, shit, I think it is," murmured Alec, and he leaped back up onto the raised walkway to follow his friends.

Albus had taken out the Hocus-Focuser again, and he determined they were headed in the right direction. But, encountering no more opposition, they progressed through the ship. They reached the far end, a little bubble where a captain could sit, with a communication console and a small window looking out ahead. Albus skidded to a stop. The Hocus-Focuser was still pointed in the same direction: forward.

Aidan cast a quick spell to cause the whole front of the ship to become invisible. They could now see that the Shadow's Engine was on the outside of the ship, encased in a thin bubble of air to prevent any damage from the outside pressures.

"Blast out a Shatterbolt, destroy the ship and kill all these people as we escape with HERMAN?" asked Aidan, speaking very rapidly, turning to Alec and purposefully keeping his gaze away from Albus. This question of morals was not directed towards Albus after what Aidan thought he had seen happen in the prison cell. "Or try and find another way in the thirty seconds or so we have?"

"Millions of lives at stake," pressed Albus.

"I understand! That doesn't mean we shouldn't _try_ to save the people _here,_ too!"

"It does when we have fifteen seconds before we're unable to stop it!" Albus shoved Aidan aside and pulled out both wands. "_Cumaestis Ecu—_"

He felt a dark aura approaching behind them, but Alec had already been looking that way as lookout. Alec locked himself into a duel with Duopold, but she had brought reinforcements; four angry-looking witches and wizards who looked like more serious duelists appeared behind her and began casting spells at them as well.

"_Go, just do it!_" shouted Aidan, joining Alec in repelling the duelists from their position, forcing them back through the bottleneck. The strange energy passed over Duopold's crew, and suddenly the spellwork from their attackers ceased. But the spells which Aidan and Alec sent at them also dissipated before reaching their targets.

Albus turned ahead again, knowing he had only seconds. He began the incantation as fast as possible. "_Cumaestis Eculumos Petomax—_"

But before he could finish the incantation, there was a stinging pain in the back of his neck, and an unfamiliar pressure, and his breath caught in his throat. He swiped at his neck, and his hand brushed against something leathery, but his arms were feeling extremely weak for some reason and he couldn't knock off whatever was attached to him.

Aidan gave a horrified shout when he turned around to see why Albus hadn't finished the Shatterbolt. He tried to cast a spell, but the strange magic-suppressing pulse had enveloped him, and the spell sputtered out before it left his wand. Alec tried and failed as well, and sensing no other option, he ran forward and wrenched the thing off of Albus's neck with his bare hands.

Aidan ran to the very front of the ship, dangerously close to what would be a fatal proximity to the spell's target. He tried casting a Shatterbolt nonetheless, but the pulse had reached all the way through the ship and they were no longer able to use magic. The front of the ship, which Aidan had enchanted to become transparent, faded back to its solid metallic color, now that the caster of the charm was within the confines of whatever aura was eliminating their magic.

Albus looked over at Alec, wrestling with a large creature that looked like a cross between a bat and a spider, three feet long with massive fangs and flailing wings, and with hairy legs that were writhing and snapping like banners in the wind. It was one of the creatures that sucked wizard blood to power the Shadow's Engine, and it had been on him for quite a while. Aidan jumped to Alec's side and smashed its head with his foot; the legs and wings continued their frantic motions for a moment, but then settled down and lay limp. Aidan and Alec both looked over at Albus with panicked expressions. They all looked back at Duopold and her four minions, now much more imposing: they were five adults, more than capable of taking down the three of them by hand while the magic was out. Albus was panting, weakened from the blood loss, but he tried not to show it as he stood his ground. Duopold's guards began advancing.

_New plan needed,_ thought Aidan. _New plan needed NOW._

Alec reached down and picked up the spider-bat thing that had attacked Albus. He looked at it for a moment curiously, and Duopold's team paused. Alec reached into the mouth, seized the fangs, and twisted, ripping out both of the nine-inch razor-sharp fangs. The rest of the body dropped to the ground, and he kicked it away. Then he gripped both fangs in his hands like knives, and cocked his head to one side.

"Why don't you get out of the way before I slice all your throats," said Alec.

Duopold snorted like a bull. "Charge the one with the fangs," she said. "Who cares if you get a few scrapes? The wrath of the Man in the Shadows would be far worse than any injury you'd sustain here."

"No magic, though," said one of the wizards, looking at Duopold nervously. "They can't do any damage. Maybe we should just let them pass…"

"Idiot! Go now before they get any other ideas!"

"Here's an idea," said Alec. "You could let us stab her in the heart, and then tell your Wilcox-in-the-Shadows that we overpowered you. You'd live, and Wilcox would be none the wiser."

"Wilcox?!" gasped a woman in the back. "What?!"

"Telling them is no use, we'll just wipe their memories later," said Duopold, waving at the air.

"Excuse me?" asked one of the wizards.

_The longer we wait, the nearer they get to London,_ thought Aidan, as the ship began to rumble, signifying that they had entered Digher Straits. That wasn't good—the trip would take almost no time at all…

And then, suddenly, the ship ground to a complete halt. There was still a slight vibration from being in the Straits, but as Albus looked through the window in the front, he could see they had stopped completely. The Blicks that were ever-present in the Straits were floating past them in the current, instead of the ship soaring past the Blicks.

"What's going on?!" shrieked Duopold, the veins in her neck bulging furiously.

"Ma'am, the navigators who were supposed to take us through Digher Straits have all Disapparated!" sounded a voice through the communicators in front.

"GET SOMEBODY ELSE TO KEEP US MOVING!" shouted Alec.

At first, Albus had thought the most recent shout had come from Duopold or one of her minions, but then he realized Alec had been the one to shout it. He and Aidan both gave Alec confused glances; Alec was looking more panicked than anyone else in the room.

"You can't park a ship in Digher Straits!" choked Alec.

"Why not?" asked Aidan quietly.

"I don't know," said Alec. "It's a bit of lore passed down—no one knows why you shouldn't park in Digher Straits, but everyone says you don't want to find out why. You know the 'Hazard-free since 1883' saying on the Liner?"

"Yes?" said Albus.

"They parked in Digher Straits in 1883," said Alec.

There was a brief silence as everyone, including Duopold and her crew, contemplated the previous statement. And then, there was an ominous roar that shook the entire ship, shooting vibrations up everyone's legs and into their spines.

Albus looked over his shoulder through the window, but even the headlights of the submarine could barely cut through the murky ocean depths of Digher Straits, and they couldn't see anything coming. But they could _hear_ it, getting closer and closer with every angry roar.

"What _is_ that?!" moaned one of Duopold's men, looking weak in the knees. "I didn't sign up for sea monsters!"

"It's the Loch Stock Stalker!" cried a woman in front.

Madam Duopold's face contorted angrily. "Fools! Get these imposters. The other navigators can worry about getting the ship moving! The Engine's timer is running out!"

_If we keep the ship stuck in Digher Straits,_ thought Aidan excitedly, _then the Engine might explode harmlessly underwater!_

_We can't wait that long!_ thought Alec. _We've already been parked too long—_

A dark mass slammed into the front of the ship, throwing every passenger into the ceiling as the ship plunged downward. Blicks crashed against the metal as the magic shield surrounding the ship faltered; dents were appearing all over the floor as the ship slowly righted itself. But before it could turn completely back around, the submarine was slammed again, this time from the side, and they spun out of control through the Straits, Blicks pelting all sides of the ship in turn. A massive eyeball briefly passed by the front window, and its gaze was fixed on the people inside.

_The Loch Stock Stalker?_ thought Alec to his friends. _But it hasn't been seen in three years!_

_Well, it's back, and there's no time to wonder about it right now!_ thought Albus.

When the boys turned around to face Duopold's attack force, they found they were looking only at Duopold; the others had fled back towards the center of the ship. Duopold looked over her shoulder, noticing the same thing. She growled and turned back around to pursue, into the hallway that connected the captain's chamber to the rest of the submarine.

And then a razor-sharp fin suddenly burst through the side of the ship; alarms blared and lights flashed, and people in other parts of the ship screamed as water surged through the hole. The fin wrapped around Duopold's head with surprising dexterity and flexibility, and dragged her out into the ocean depths. The ship began to capsize as water rushed towards the bow, sweeping up the three boys and pounding them against the front window. A pressure-sensitive lock then activated, and metallic walls descended on either side of the hallway where the hole had been torn. The leak was contained inside the hallway, but from the rocking of the ship and the creaks and groans from the walls, they could tell that the front of the ship was severing from the back. And the Loch Stock Stalker didn't seem like to let up.

Once the waves inside the front of the ship had settled, Alec splashed forward to the communication console, and studied it for a while. Aidan read his thoughts even without using the Connectivity Charm, and joined him there; flipping a few switches, his face lit up to find that it worked.

"Listen to me!" shouted Alec into a microphone. Albus hoped that the console hadn't been damaged in any way, and that Alec's voice was broadcasting throughout the whole ship. "Ask those duelists who saw the monster: We will all be dead when that thing comes back. It could be seconds from now.

"We all need to get out of here. This ship is dead in the water and we need to Disapparate. But the magic of this ship is cut off. Disable whatever device is stopping us from getting out of here, and disable it _now!_ The ship might not survive another hit. But we can't evacuate until the magic is back on. This is life or death. Tear the device apart with your bare hands if you have to! Just do it quickly—before we get another visit!"

They waited in silence; Albus found it hard to breathe, in the contained little space they were in, watching out the window for any signs of the beast. His subconscious mind was turning over the events in his head, and in the back of his mind, answers finally started to emerge. But he didn't have time to confront those thoughts just yet.

There was a rumble, and at first Albus thought it was the Loch Stock Stalker returning. But then, there was a massive explosion. It tore through his ears and must have dissolved his bones. It was so loud, he thought that there must be no way his body hadn't been torn to shreds by whatever was the source of the sound.

When he opened his eyes, he was expecting to see the afterlife, whatever it was. King's Cross, perhaps? But he was astounded to see that nothing before him had changed, except for the terrified faces of Alec and Aidan. He tried to shout to them, but the ringing in his ears from the explosion was so loud that he couldn't even hear himself. He tried communicating via the Connectivity Charm instead.

_What the hell was that?!_ he shouted inside his head, and at least he could hear that. Alec and Aidan heard it too, and Aidan responded.

_I think it was the Shadow's Engine exploding,_ thought Aidan. _It was on a timer for this ship's expected arrival time. But it didn't do anything to us—we're not Muggles._

_Let's hope we're not under any Muggle-inhabited islands right now,_ thought Alec with a grimace. _But at least we stopped it from exploding in the middle of a huge city!_

The walls creaked their loudest yet as Albus's hearing began to return to him, and then the ship began to fold in on itself, bending to the pressure. A small crack appeared in the wall behind them, and water poured through; the crack began to grow. The water level in the front of the ship was at their ankles and was quickly growing with the new leak, and a dark shape once again loomed beyond the window. It moved past them, and then half of Madam Duopold drifted in front of the headlights.

And miraculously, at almost the same time, there was the sound of something powering down, and a welcome energy passed over their bodies. Albus pulled HERMAN out of his pack once more, hopefully for the last time in a while.

_Shadow's Engine already detonated,_ thought Albus. _No need to stay?_

_No need to stay,_ echoed Aidan. _Get us out right now!_

Right as Albus grasped the shoelaces of HERMAN, and willed it to teleport them away, the ship was slammed again, right in the very front. The creature hadn't taken kindly to the explosion of the Shadow's Engine, and it smashed the machine to pieces in case it activated again. The force of the impact sent them all flying backwards towards the ceiling, and while Alec's grip held strong, Aidan's hand slipped off of Albus's shoulder. Aidan reached out with his foot, and hooked it around Albus's ankle, but then it slipped back off—just as HERMAN activated. Albus hadn't had time to internalize what had happened, and before he knew what was going on, he began rolling down a gentle hill. He stuck out an arm to stop himself, and looked around.

Only Alec was picking himself up next to Albus. Aidan was nowhere to be found.

_Aidan?_ yelled Albus in his head. _Aidan, tell me if you hear me! I'll tell you where to Apparate!_

There was no response.

"I think we're… too far for that," said Alec. "Where did you bring us?"

"Australia," said Albus. "To a random plain that I remembered we passed on the way to find Dodecus. We're definitely too far… The Connectivity Charm is severed." He slowly sank to the ground.

"Aidan can Apparate out of the ship," said Alec confidently. "He'll definitely make it… It's just that finding him again is going to be a little difficult. But he'll make it."

Albus grasped his hair and pulled. "Will we have the chance to find him again? We and Aidan are both going to have to take steps to ensure that neither of us can be found by anyone who's looking for us. That means we have to hide from each other, too."

"We'll find him again," said Alec, again sounding more confident than Albus could have even faked. "Maybe not until the war is over. But we'll win, and we'll find him, and I hope you're not going to argue with me on that!"

"No," said Albus. "I agree."

"So, defensive spells?"

"Right," said Albus, and although he didn't want to, he felt a little embarrassed about being so addled that Alec was calling the shots. He started casting the regular spells; thank goodness he'd practiced this, it was something that they usually counted on Aidan to do. He hoped he was as good at it as Aidan was.

"Well," said Alec as Albus finished the last of the protective spells.

"Well?" prompted Albus.

"We did it," said Alec.

Albus was reaching into his bag for their tent, but on this reminder, he fell backwards onto the lightly-vegetated dirt, and laughed softly to himself. In the desperation of losing Aidan in the mix, he had almost forgotten that they had successfully thwarted Wilcox's plan to wipe out all of the Muggles in London. It was a huge accomplishment—assuming that Louis and Gil had successfully disabled the one in the Loft-Mason school, but he had complete confidence in them. Slowly, his skin began to bubble as the Polyjuice wore off, and he and Alec morphed back into their usual appearances.

"And are we going to talk about that weird crap that happened with your wand connecting to Werora's?" asked Alec, sounding a little bit annoyed that Albus wasn't contributing to the brainstorming. "Or the reappearance of the Loch Stock Stalker? Come on, I thought you wanted to solve all these mysteries!"

"Oh," said Albus, his nose crinkling. "Right…" He had almost forgotten.

"Come on, Albus," huffed Alec. "I know we just had a big ordeal, and I'd really like to rest, too, but you know who isn't resting? Wilcox. We can rest our bodies, but our minds right now have to come up with the next thing we're doing, considering we're some of the only people who know what has to be done! Let's cast some reinvigorating spells and get back to work."

"Wait," said Albus. His brain, still high on adrenaline but finished with the physical concentration, was going into mental overdrive. "My wand… connecting with Werora's… And the Loch Stock Stalker."

"You realize something?" said Alec, lying down next to Albus. "That's good. I was running out of smart things to say."

The wheels turned and turned and kept turning in Albus's head. There was something huge here—something that connected so many of the mysteries. It was not a coincidence that his wand had connected with Werora's and Herpo's—two Devoctrix users. It was not a coincidence that some massive sea creature had burst into Werora's chamber—and minutes later in Digher Straits, the Loch Stock Stalker had been seen for the first time in three years. In fact, there were very few coincidences occurring around him in general—the trick was just to figure out _why_ they weren't coincidences.

Something told him, though, that the answers were right in front of him; he was so close to understanding. Why couldn't Aidan be here to piece these new revelations into the larger picture with him? How did everything fit together? He felt like with every clue he'd gotten, he was more than halfway there. Most of the answer was there, he just needed to fill in the end… like when Wilcox said he was looking for the "Natural S—"

And, in a sudden click, it struck him like a Shatterbolt.

"Merlin's beard," he croaked. "Merlin's balls."

"You got it?" yelped Alec, jumping to his feet. "What, then?"

"Merlin's beard and balls," whispered Albus.

"By Merlin's bearded balls, _what?_"

"_Pyron._"

"Pie, Ron?"

"Pyron, the deity of ancient legends," said Albus. "Wilcox is searching for the Sprites—the Natural Sprites."

"Are those the same Sprites of mythology I'm thinking of, like when people say 'By the Sprites'?" asked Alec. "Are they also called the _Natural_ Sprites?"

"Sometimes," said Albus. "In some lore. I've heard them called that. And all of the lore was the stuff of medieval mythology, and children's stories. But Dismiusa was the same. I can't _believe_ I didn't think of this yet. My wand connected with Herpo's, and a winged figure burst out—that was Aether, one of the Natural Sprites, the deity of the sky! And just now—Werora—I connected—the sea monster—it's Mara, another Natural Sprite, the deity of the sea—_the Loch Stock Stalker is Mara, one of the Natural Sprites!_"

Alec sat up. "Are you _serious?_ This is—this is huge. This is Dismiusa-existing huge; this is—"

"Defeating-Wilcox huge," breathed Albus. "Wilcox knows the Natural Sprites are still around—he's big on these sorts of legends. He tried to control Dismiusa; when it didn't work, he must have turned to different legends—found out the Natural Sprites exist. But he definitely doesn't have Mara, at least—that's the Loch Stock Stalker. I just freed Mara from Werora's control; she must have conquered Mara somehow, that's how she had control over water! And Herpo conquered Aether, and I freed Aether, too, when our wands connected!"

"But _everyone's_ wand doesn't connect with Herpo's, or Werora's," said Alec. "Why did _yours?_"

"Because," started Albus, hoping the rest of the sentence would come to him if he started it. "Because…"

"Albus," said Alec, "when your wand connected with Werora's… she got surrounded by a churning whirlpool, but you… You had pieces of rock levitating around you, and the earth heaved up under your feet."

"That happened with Herpo, too," said Albus. "Does that mean…"

"Do you have some connection with Terra, the Natural Sprite of land?" asked Alec.

Albus wracked his brain yet again. Werora's element had been water. Herpo had shown some control over air, though it wasn't as tied to his legend as his other "accomplishments" were. And who had controlled the earth? Dismiusa, of course, in addition to her control over the other forces of nature. But Wilcox had struck Dismiusa down, not Albus… So how was it that Albus had gained control over Terra? When he had frozen Dismiusa in ice? Was that a strong enough blow? Or was it…

One more unsolved mystery drifted into place, filling out the entire picture.

Back when they had been escaping Dismiusa, running from the forest creatures, they had been assaulted by a humanoid being of unknown origin, whose identity they had never discovered. This being had held control over rock, building walls of stone in the blink of an eye and opening up the earth like an earthquake with the wave of a hand. Its eyes and nails were crystal, and its hair was metal. It was Terra.

And when it had attacked them, Albus, using the enhanced power from the Bloodblade, had incapacitated Terra. Terra had vanished in a puff of smoke—did that mean Albus carried Terra around inside him now? And that was why his wand had connected to Herpo, and to Werora: when two people controlling a Natural Sprite dueled, it must have been the connection between the Natural Sprites that forced the connection of the wands. The loser lost their Natural Sprite, and if Albus had known this earlier, he could have caught the Sprites on their way out once he freed them. He could have already collected all three Natural Sprites, who together formed the power of Pyron, the deity of fire—one of the most potent magical figures of all time. Maybe Albus, always so adept with fire-based magic, was destined to reunite the pieces of Pyron.

And if Wilcox wanted to unite the Sprites, then it was because he was looking to use Pyron's power to grow even stronger. That reinforced the legend that if one united all pieces of Pyron, one would gain Pyron's power. Now Albus had one Sprite—and he knew where to find the others. All they had to do was park a ship in Digher Straits, and Mara would come to them. And Aether… He could be wrong about this one, but wasn't there that tale of the deity of wind that lived at the peak of Mount Solaeris in India? And if his fight with Terra had been indicative of the general pattern, all he had to do was incapacitate the Sprite and it would become his to command wherever, whenever, and however he wanted. Sending out the Sprite to do his bidding, though, ran the risk of somebody else stealing the Sprite from him, like he stole Terra from Dismiusa.

Of course, none of this would matter if he was wrong about the Sprites. But he perhaps knew a way to test it.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated. He pictured Terra bursting from the ground in front of him, ready to serve his commands.

Suddenly, there was a tremor that nearly knocked him off his feet, and Alec yelped. Albus opened his eyes, and there, standing in front of him, was the earthen humanoid creature known as Terra, bowed in front of him, leaning on its metal sword. Muscles of rock bulged from its soil-colored skin, and the sun beamed off of its metallic hair. He nodded down, and in half a second, Terra had vanished into a hole in the earth and covered it back up, lying in wait for Albus's next command.

"I think we know the next thing we're doing," he said with a wild grin, and although they had just been running around like crazy for the past hour, he was quite ready to go.

* * *

_**Some of you may have noticed I've listed thirty-one chapters in the table of contents that's up on the first chapter of this book; there should be thirty-one chapters when this is over, maybe give or take a couple. But I've only named the ones I've already uploaded and I've left the other chapter titles as question marks. I thought it could be a fun little challenge... If any reviewer correctly guesses any of the upcoming chapter titles, I'll fill in the corresponding blanks in the table of contents! Even if it's not in order, I'll fill in whatever's named correctly. There's many chapters that are like this one, "Inner Nature," that I don't think would be guessed, but you never know; and there are a fair few I've hinted at various points during the series, that I wonder if people know are coming!**_

_**So, leave your guess in a review and if you're right, you'll see it edited into the chapter list within a few days.**_


	14. Hijack and Hightail

_**Happy 36th birthday, Harry Potter!**_

_**Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is out! Andy already has a copy, but I am poor and will most likely be borrowing it from a friend who isn't. Can't wait to read it, though I know it will entirely upend what I've written canonwise... But I will be thinking more of Cursed Child as another sort of fanfiction itself, just that it happened to be written by JKR. Think of it as sort of a multiverse where one branch of the timestream leads to Global Revelation, one to Cursed Child, others to the rest of the fanfics written by other authors!**_

_**Also, once or twice weekly uploads will begin now, and there might even be daily uploads towards the end. I will most likely finish uploading the series in the month of August... I only have three and a half chapters left to write!**_

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HIJACK AND HIGHTAIL

O

Aidan lay for a while on the soft dirt, coughing up water and letting his lungs settle from the underwater incident. This was it—he was cut off from Albus and Alec, and he had no way of getting back. At least they had accomplished their mission, though, and disabled every Shadow's Engine before they could do their damage.

Carefully, he sat up, and examined his body. Fingers—okay. Toes—okay, as far as he could guess through his soggy shoes. Face—okay, as far as he could feel. Looked like he hadn't been Splinched, despite the lengthy Apparition he had just had to do. He slowly stood, drying his clothes off, and then he felt wetness reoccurring on his back.

He groaned at the sky and turned around; sure enough, there was a patch of red in the grass behind him. He'd Splinched his back somewhere, and that wasn't going to be easy to fix.

"_Accio Dittany,_" he said, pointing his wand at his bag, and the essence of Dittany zoomed out. With a grimace, he realized he was the only one carrying Dittany—Albus and Alec would be without it, just like Aidan was without HERMAN, or Eftan's mirror. He hoped he didn't have anything crucial that Albus was going to need. Sifting through his bag, he found that the only thing of note that Albus might miss was his Eucoeur, the crystal that could be cracked to instantly fill the owner with memories of all of the love he or she had ever felt. But that wasn't too crucial to their plans; the Eucoeur at this point was mostly a failsafe in case Albus fell victim to the Chaos Contagion, to remind him of all the love in his life and drive away the madness.

As he used a nearby pond to examine the wound and apply the treatment, he sighed. More mysteries had come up during that attack—like Albus's wand connecting to Werora's, or the Loch Stock Stalker's reappearance. He supposed these new riddles would take a while to decipher, but he wished he could be there to help Albus and Alec figure it out.

He looked down, and yelped to see a patch of blood that had grown under a very sensitive area. He checked the damage, but was most pleased to discover that there was only a slight scoop of skin taken under his bellybutton, and no injuries were anywhere in the important region just below there. He returned to his contemplation.

What was there to do? Was there any way he could contact Albus again? Maybe—there was one place that he knew Albus had connections, which he might end up visiting. Harry was holed up in Romania; if Aidan could find the Potter/Weasley family there, he could possibly get a message to Albus through them, if Albus ever contacted his father. Though Harry would have concealed his family well, perhaps Aidan could get close enough to them for them to notice him and reach out to him. He would have to spend a lot of time scouring the empty countryside, but what else did he have to do, now that he was separated from Albus and Alec, with no grand plan following the victory against the Shadow's Engines?

Aidan mounted his broom, lifted off the ground, and realized he had no idea what direction Romania would be in. He instead flew in search of a map.

O

"So I'm guessing we can repeat what just happened with Mara's appearance," said Albus. "Maybe the reason you're not supposed to park a ship in Digher Straits is because Mara will find you and attack you until you leave its territory! We'd just have to commandeer a magical ship, like the Durmstrang ship, and park it in Digher Straits; then find a way of defeating Mara when it arrives, before it defeats us."

"If we're using the Loch Stock Liner, we can track Mara using the ship's sensors that detect large sources of magic!" exclaimed Alec. "We'll know when it's coming and where it's coming from, and we'll be ready for it! Milo said they used to see the Loch Stock Stalker on the sensors all the time. If we commandeer the ship, I can drive it—everyone working on the ship was taught how to pilot it, in case of emergency!"

"Were you taught to fly it, too?" asked Albus hopefully.

Alec looked at him, bemused. "Er, well, yeah, but I'm guessing the deity of the sea wouldn't be in the sky?"

"But the deity of the _sky_ might possibly be in the sky," said Albus patiently.

"Oh. Right. Aether would be next after Mara."

"And like the Shadow's Engines, once we capture Mara, Wilcox might realize what we're up to," said Albus, "so we'll need to get to Aether fast. And I think I know where Aether could be!"

He was feeling more exhilarated than he'd felt in a long time. They had been constantly on the defense—hiding from Wilcox, running from Wilcox, stopping Wilcox from destroying London. But now they were taking the initiative—making the first move that Wilcox would have to respond to when they were done. And what a move it would be, if they could pull it off—the Natural Sprites was what Wilcox had been about to say when he was cut off from answering "what were you searching for the most". If Wilcox had known what Albus knew now, he'd have taken down Werora in an instant to win her Sprite. That meant Albus was finally one step ahead of Wilcox on one of these legends. Albus could steal away the thing that Wilcox was looking for the _most._

"You think we could really hijack the Loch Stock Liner?" asked Albus. "Can just two people control it?"

"Two people Imperiusing the crew, yeah," said Alec. "Much as I hate putting them in danger, we'll be putting a lot of people _out_ of danger when we succeed, if you're right about all this."

"And do you think Salvo and Milo are still in control of the ship?" asked Albus.

"Why wouldn't they be?" asked Alec, a look of concern growing on his face.

"They're really friendly with my dad, and with me," said Albus, his heart sinking faster than the Liner as he contemplated his own question. "Wilcox might have… you know… removed them, so that my dad can't use the Liner as a resource."

"Or he could have just put a spy in the crew," said Alec, rather tersely.

"I hope so," said Albus. "Just… if Milo and Salvo aren't there… we can't make a scene about it, okay? We can't draw attention to ourselves at all. Make no emotions known, if we find out something happened to them, or they could suspect us."

Alec nodded, his gaze tilted away.

"Let's go get Muggle disguises, then," said Albus. "The Liner detects Polyjuice and the like, right?"

"Right," said Alec. "No spell or potion-based concealment will fly."

"I hope there haven't been any extra security measures added," said Albus quietly.

"Why would you say that?" growled Alec. "You're going to jinx it!"

"Me saying it out loud isn't going to affect whether the Liner has already had extra security measures installed," sighed Albus. "Well… I guess we're wasting time just standing here talking about it. If Wilcox finds out what happened in Werora's palace and questions the witnesses, he may find out what's happened and have our same idea. We might have to race against the clock here."

"Okay," said Alec. "Where next—to get disguises?"

"Yes," said Albus, "and then to stop by an old—er, actually fairly new—friend. I have a favor I need to ask her; she has something that could help us."

O

Aidan's Supersensory Charm tingled, and he whirled around on his broom, wand drawn. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, waiting to engage in combat.

Instead, he saw a small point of light headed towards him slowly. A Patronus? No, it wasn't bright itself, it was just reflecting the low sun. As it drew closer and its form came into clearer view, he saw that it was a paper airplane. Like the ones used in the Ministry… or by Desulgon when he was acting as IMW.

It fluttered towards him. He initially dodged it, and cast _Finite Incantatem_ to drop it to the ground. He then ran his hand over it to check for curses, sensing nothing. He lifted it up with his wand to still avoid touching it directly, just in case. He unfolded the paper and, keeping notice of his Supersensory Charm in case this was an ambush, he read it.

_There is an Anti-Disapparition Jinx placed on the area. Do not attempt to run. Cast your Patronus and wait for us to emerge and ask you a question to further confirm your identity. Fail to cooperate and we will set upon you from all sides._

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Aidan lifted his wand. This could be Harry's company… or it could be the enemy, confirming that he was someone to kill.

He cast his Patronus into the air, a mongoose twirling about happily over his head.

As soon as he lowered his wand and his Patronus vanished, a hooded figure faded into view, releasing a startlingly well-practiced Disillusionment Charm. He drew back his hood to show an unfamiliar older gentleman's face. Aidan knew that if this were Harry's party, it would make sense he wouldn't expose any of his family yet, in case this turned rough.

"Answer the question immediately or we will all open fire," said the man in a rough, gravelly voice. "In what country did you encounter the device used to teleport you, Albus, and Alec to Dalton Desulgon's research base?"

"Australia," said Aidan, but after he spoke, he realized how strange it was to have been asked that—wasn't this something that only he, Albus, Alec, and Exo knew? But no, there was also Teddy…

Suddenly, the man grew a few inches, and his face features shifted gently as his hair turned turquoise. Aidan smiled and finally relaxed.

"Aidan," said Teddy, skipping the pleasant greeting. "Where is Albus?"

"Oh," said Aidan, remembering that Teddy must have been incredibly concerned from the lack of Albus's presence. "We've been separated. I got wrenched off of him as we were teleporting. He's fine—we finished that mission we were telling you about, successfully."

"Okay, but where is he now?"

"You still have to prove your identity to _me,_ you know," said Aidan, tensing again.

"Sorry," said Teddy. He cast his Patronus into the air, a scurrying chameleon. "And you saw I'm a Metamorphmagus—there aren't many of us." He turned into a perfect image of Aidan, then Albus, Alec, and back into himself.

"Are you with Harry and his family?" asked Aidan. "Are they the others you mentioned in that paper you sent to me?"

"No, the mention of other people was a bluff so you wouldn't immediately attack when I emerged," said Teddy. "But the reason I was here is probably the same as you—I was looking for them, too, when I came across you. They've moved, they might have had to switch locations for some reason and I can't find them anymore."

"Have you gotten in contact with any of them yet?"

"No, but I'm quite sure that they're alive, and that Wilcox hasn't found them yet," said Teddy. "If either of those weren't true, I would have caught wind of it during my times undercover in Wilcox's ranks. But there isn't much time. We really need to talk about where Albus is. You can be honest with me."

"I truly don't know, I'm sorry," said Aidan. "What's happened, though? Why do you need him so desperately?"

"Because he needs to know that I may be able to find Desulgon within the week."

"Are you serious?" said Aidan, startled. "What happened, and how?"

"We realized: what better way to find the most powerful man in the world, than to use the most powerful force in the world?"

O

"Hello?" said Albus as they entered into the aquarium in Diagon Alley.

Neema Sopps, a former Hogwarts student whom Albus had encountered during his escape from Dr. Varnisse, greeted them. "Hello, and welcome to Gua's Aquarium," she said. "Admission is free, but if you'd like, you can donate in the box on the desk in front. Suggested donation is—"

"Sorry, we're not here for the fish," said Alec.

"Well, we're here for _one_ of the fish," said Albus. "Is anyone else in this aquarium right now?"

"No," said Neema suspiciously. "Why…?"

She frowned, and her hand drifted closer to the wand sticking from her pocket.

"Neema, it's me… Albus Potter."

Neema looked carefully at both of them, and then finally recognized Albus through the Muggle disguise he was wearing. "Oh, good heavens," she groaned. "Albus, when I asked you to leave because I wanted to live into my twenties… I didn't mean you should come back a couple of weeks after I turned twenty. I want to live into my thirties, too."

"I know this isn't great of me to do to you," said Albus apologetically. "But there's a favor I need to ask you that only you can help me with."

"Thus drastically increasing my chances of not living into my thirties," sighed Neema. "Well, out with it. What the heck do you want that you can only get from me?"

"We need to borrow your Ramora."

"You want Remy?" asked Neema. "Why the hell do you need a Ramora?"

"The less you know, the better," said Albus. "Just know that it's crucially important. If you'd like to make sure you don't have any blame in this, we can pretend this was a break-in and that we stole the Ramora."

"Or if you don't want to let us borrow the fish, we can _actually_ break in and steal it," said Alec.

"But I don't understand what you could possibly need him for," probed Neema. "Having a Ramora is only good for latching onto a ship and stopping it from moving. That's a really specific skill set and I don't see why it would help out someone who's on the run for murdering a Hogwarts professor."

"In all seriousness, we're trying to save the world," said Albus. "And yes, it's a really specific skill set, but we have a really specific job for it."

"Well…" Neema bit her bottom lip, heaved in a big breath and released it. "Remy is pretty stuck up. He will only listen to the people who rescued him and nursed him back to health. So if it's that important, I'll go with you. You don't have to tell me everything—just what to do with Remy."

"Are you sure?" said Albus. "I thought you wanted to live into your thirties. That chance drops drastically with every minute you spend interacting with me."

"Well, if you're trying to save the world," said Neema, "I figure if you fail then everyone goes down, and I wouldn't live into my thirties anyway. And as I said, Remy wouldn't listen to you. I've trained him to do some things on my commands, though."

"I have powerful mind magic, I could probably control him too," said Albus.

"No, Ramoras are powerful magical creatures," said Neema. "I highly doubt it would work on him and you'd piss him off. So what ship needs to be parked, and is there really no other way to park it?"

"We need to park the Loch Stock Liner," said Alec, "in the middle of Digher Straits."

"Sounds exactly like the sort of thing that would save the world," said Neema, shaking her head in confusion. "But I won't pry, if this is part of some big plan I shouldn't know about. I'll trust you. I can't take a Ramora on board, though, they'd scan me for magical items and they'd know what he is if they saw him."

"Any suggestions?" asked Albus.

"We can board the Liner and I can tell Remy to meet me at a window," said Neema. "He'll attach to the ship so he can stay with us as we enter the straits, but he won't activate his power to hold the ship down until I tell him to. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," said Albus.

"And if you get killed before you turn thirty," said Alec, "just know that we are very, very sorry about that."

"Thanks," said Neema. "Thanks so much."

"All right," said Albus. "Let's go summon the Loch Stock Liner. We'll Apparate to a beach, but not one too close to here. We don't want them making the connection."

"What, just, like, an empty beach?" asked Neema.

"Well, yeah," said Alec. "That's how you summon the Loch Stock Liner."

"But I thought you said you wanted to blend in as much as possible," said Neema. "Those Muggle disguises, the scruff, the fake noses and chins, the contact lenses, the altered skin tone… That's all good. But if they stop to investigate us at all, I'll wager there's a good chance they'll see through that. They've probably been warned to look for disguises like that."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"If you want to blend in with the crowd, let's literally surround ourselves with a crowd," said Neema. "Why don't we find out where there's a Quidditch game ending? Lots of people take the Liner home after a Quidditch game, there's usually dozens of people lining up at the lakes, and the Liner doesn't have time or reason to check all of them. Let's join in with a crowd that's leaving a Quidditch game, and then they won't have any reason to suspect us any differently than they treat everyone."

"Brilliant," said Alec. "Why didn't we have her with us this whole time?"

"It's a good plan," said Albus. "We're already in Diagon Alley. Let's check out Flourish and Blotts, they're bound to have a catalog with this year's Quidditch match dates and times."

"We may have to wait a while to put this plan into action," said Neema. "There aren't that many really close in the area and we don't want to Splinch ourselves by Apparating too far—the scarring could end up being noticeable."

"Apparating isn't a problem, we have HERMAN," said Albus, taking the pair of shoes out of his pack and smiling.

"Right," said Neema, sighing. "We're _walking_. Of course."

"No, HERMAN is… never mind," said Albus. "The less you know the better, probably."

"So," said Neema. "What happens _after_ we park the ship?"

"The less you know the better," repeated Albus, attempting a smile.

O

Aidan gave a small smile and wave. Cynthia Birchbaum, former Healer at the Hogwarts hospital wing, waved back nervously.

"So," said Aidan, trying to recap what Teddy had told him on the way over, to confirm. "You think that Madam Birchbaum truly loved Professor Desulgon, and that you can potentially use that true love to… track his current position, anywhere in the world?"

"He mentioned to me that he knew she was crazy about him," said Teddy. "Unfortunately, for obvious reasons, he couldn't really let someone into his life and become close to them. Wouldn't have ended well for them."

"Still didn't end well, anyway," sighed Cynthia. "He used what he knew about me to his advantage. He convinced me to do some… unscrupulous things for him."

"A lot of people are guilty of that, Teddy included," said Victoire, who was also with them in the new safe house Teddy was occupying after the loss of the old one. "Even without love in the equation. He was very persuasive."

"It's not a judgment on your character," said Aidan. "One way or another he would have gotten what he wanted out of you. But _that's_ not a judgment on _his_ character, either—he was doing what he thought was necessary to save the world, because he had seen a lot of evidence that he was the most qualified to do so."

"Regardless of our personal feelings, what's important right now is finding him," pressed Teddy. "He's the only one Wilcox ever feared. He's the Dumbledore to Wilcox's Voldemort. Maybe Albus could pull it off without him—but having Desulgon would unarguably make the fight a whole lot faster and easier."

"Agreed," said Aidan. "So, what's the process?"

"We're going to give her this," said Victoire, holding up a small bottle. "It's called Inevertre_._ It's a French potion that is normally used for freaky philosophical fetishes, but it has a very interesting use that we can take advantage of: if you focus on a specific emotion, it can allow you to push some of the emotion outside of your body and, for a few minutes, it will become a physical entity."

"Then we'll use _Stolidify,_" said Teddy. "It's a spell that renders the host incapable of emoting for some time. Very useful self-enhancer for combat, but also very useful for us now. Usually the emotion ejected from the body during Inevertre will return to the person in question shortly afterwards. But we'll use _Stolidify _to make Cynthia lose any capacity for emoting. Unable to have the emotions return to her body, they will seek out the other person in the world who can receive it."

"Emotions don't only belong to one person," said Victoire. "If you feel gratitude towards someone, that gratitude actually appears inside the soul of the person you are gracious to. The same thing happens with loathing, or grief, or sympathy… or love. It's hard to measure the effects of these things on a person's life, but recent magical research on emotions has shown they have their own set of laws that can be understood and predicted. The point is, if we take Cynthia's love for Desulgon, and we cause it to become solid and leave her body, then remove her ability to house that emotion…"

"Then the emotion will look for another person who can house it," continued Teddy, "which means it will seek out Desulgon, the other person to whom that love belongs. Being solid, it won't be able to vanish and appear into his body like it normally would; it will have to move through the physical world to get to him. Like an owl delivering a letter, it'll know where he is. And we can follow it right to him."

"This is insane," said Aidan. "Are you sure it'll work that way?"

"Teddy and I tested it out," said Victoire, smiling. "It worked—no matter where I was in the world. But only with true love. The other emotions weren't powerful enough to exist outside the body for very long at all when their original host was blocked off. The only emotion that can find you anywhere in the world… that remains even when the other person is incapacitated… the only emotion that can cross the entire world, no matter where you are, to fill you with its power… is true love."

"Poetry aside, the emotion reverts back to its insubstantial, ethereal form after a few minutes, since the effects of Inevertre don't last forever," said Teddy, "and then we wouldn't be able to see it anymore, so we wouldn't be able to follow it the whole way. But we can just use the potion again when the first one fades, keeping _Stolidify_ in effect, and then repeat the process until it finally leads us right to him."

"The only reason we haven't put this plan into action yet was because we were waiting for backup," said Cynthia. "We didn't know whether just Teddy and Victoire and I would be able to subdue Dalton by ourselves. With not too many people on our side, we were looking for Harry and company, or Albus and company, so we could be one hundred percent sure that the people we were trusting weren't secretly in Wilcox's pocket. But you might be enough backup—we need to do this as soon as possible, anyway."

"And you agreed to this?" asked Aidan.

"I came up with it," she said softly.

Aidan looked at her, surprised.

"I was one of the people Teddy was keeping an eye on, in case Dalton ever visited me," said Cynthia. "I was spending most of my time wishing there was some way to find him, and using _Stolidify_ on myself to dull the emotional pain. I was trying to brainstorm ways to somehow contact him, knowing that my love for him was so intense that there had to be some way to tap into its power, to harness and apply it somehow to bring us together again. I realized that the very spell I was using to try to avoid the thought of Dalton could in fact be the spell we would use to find the actual Dalton. I had a direct line of communication to Teddy so that I could reach him at any time—so, when I thought of this idea, I hailed him."

"That's why I had to leave you guys before the attack on the Shadow's Engines," said Teddy. "Sorry about that, but excellent work on the mission, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Let's get to it," said Victoire. "And let's be careful. It's not like we only have one try—love is a limitless resource, and we can do this as many times as we need to—but even in his crazed form, Desulgon is extremely sharp when he wants to be. He'll know what we're up to if we mess it up the first time, and we'd lose the element of surprise; he'd be ready for it the next time we tried it."

"Then let's not mess it up," said Aidan.

O

The first person to exit the Quidditch stadium was a player Albus recognized instantly: Oliver Wood, the reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United. He was followed by his wife, who was also a reporter who reported on Puddlemere's games. Shortly after Oliver was Euan Yodelhop, the Seeker who had helped Hufflepuff hold a lock on the House and Quidditch cups for most of his stay at Hogwarts. The rest of the team was behind Oliver and Euan, and they took out a Portkey; Oliver kissed his wife and joined the team as they vanished, and his wife Disapparated. After they were gone, the fans began emerging.

"All right, time to blend in with the crowd," said Neema.

As most of the crowd Disapparated or took Portkeys, a fair few struck out on foot. Many headed around the opposite side of the stadium, towards the road, where they could hail the Knight Bus. About two dozen, though, headed towards the forest path, which led to a pond large enough to summon the Liner. There was even a sign with a picture of the Liner on it, pointing in the direction of the forest path, to draw in customers from the crowd exiting the Quidditch matches. Most of the people heading towards them now were wealthy-looking, which made sense considering that the Liner was an expensive way to travel, but not everyone who took the Liner was overly wealthy; many were simply unable to take the Portkeys due to motion sickness, or the Knight Bus due to commotion sickness. In any case, the three of them emerged from the trees they were behind, started walking with the crowd, and blended in immediately. No one noticed or cared that they were there; they were occupied with talking frantically about the idiot referees and how Puddlemere only lost because the wind was against them.

They reached a small pond, covered in lilies and frogs. A few of the group, still ranting over their shoulders back to their friends, waded into the water and started tapping. Multiple people tapping would bring the Liner faster; they were probably used to getting summoned en masse to the locations of Quidditch matches.

"Only one downside," said Neema softly. "Since they're going to be in such a rush to get all these people back within the hour like the Liner promises, they're going to be utterly frantic to fix the problem. They'll probably figure out what's happening, and Remy will be forcibly detached from the ship pretty fast if they find him. You sure you'll have enough time to do whatever you need to do?"

"We may have to think on our feet and keep Remy moving," said Albus, "but we'll figure it out."

He tugged at his wig and checked his reflection in the pond to ensure his Muggle disguise was fully intact.

"Sure, maybe we'll figure it out, but it would be a lot nicer to figure it out _now,_" said Neema, "so what's the plan?"

"We can break the window," said Alec, "and Remy will flow into the ship with the water. Fractures in the Liner heal themselves pretty fast, and they might charge into our cabin and shout at us, but then Remy would be _inside_ the ship. He could attach to the ship from the inside, and they'd never figure out where he was—scanning the outside of the ship would reveal nothing!"

"That's perfect," said Albus as the surface of the lake began to ripple, signaling the arrival of the Liner. "Let's bring Remy in and then wait as long as possible before using him, so they don't connect the two incidents and investigate our cabin."

"Agreed," said Neema. "Let's stay at the back of the line for the Liner, then, so they put our names last and drop us off last… and no one will see me dump Remy in."

The Liner rose and broke the surface. Terrorized frogs were launched into the air and landed back in the water as the crew cast spells to blow the lily pads off the deck, and the Liner slowly bobbed to a stop on the pristine pond. A ladder flew down, and someone froze an icy path to the ladder from the shoreline. Everyone walked to the Liner, with Albus, Alec, and Neema at the back. Albus and Alec craned their necks up, looking desperately to see if Salvo was still captaining the ship, but they couldn't find him among the crew at all. Quietly, Neema opened a small pouch filled with water in which she had kept Remy; she whispered to him and poured him into the pond. No one saw, given that they were at the back of the line, and Remy swam alongside them as they walked, his bulging eyes fixated on Neema.

"Welcome to the Loch Stock Liner!" said an unfamiliar voice. "We promise to arrive at your stop within an hour or we'll reimburse you. Go in any open cabin. Don't smash the windows. And welcome to the Loch Stock Liner, hazard-free since 1883."

"It's not Milo, either," whispered Alec woefully, but he kept a straight face.

"And don't forget our special offer," said the stranger taking the place of Milo. "If you see a location on our queue close to your desired destination, then you may get off at that stop and Apparate the rest of the way home—and you'll only pay half of the price of the trip. Any takers, please consult the queue and see if any of our current customers are going to destinations close to yours. Move it along, please, we always have a tight schedule when Quidditch matches dismiss!"

"That's Dembo," said Alec. "I knew him from when I interned."

"Good guy, bad guy?" asked Neema

"Good guy overall, but not Milo," said Alec. "They probably knew Salvo and Milo were too close to the Potters. And I wouldn't be willing to bet my life that he hasn't been convinced or mind-controlled to take us out if he knew who we were."

Albus's heart sank, but he greeted Dembo with a smile and paid him for the journey, asking for a lift to a lake in Scotland. Not a single suspicious look was cast at them, and they walked freely into open cabin number 19.

"Excellent," said Neema, and tapped on the glass of the window. Remy swam up to the window, and suctioned himself there tightly. Neema smiled and gave a thumbs-up to Albus and Alec.

"Dembo was our translator for when foreigners came on board," said Alec. "He was amazing, he knew more languages than anyone I'd ever met. So it makes sense that he'd be the liaison, the First Mate after Milo was taken away… Really hope they didn't kill him or Salvo."

"I'm sure they didn't," said Albus. "If only because that would have been too transparent an action to take. So who's the new captain?"

"Well, the second mate was Djolya, the navigator," said Alec, "so I'm guessing him. Though we'll have to take out _all_ of them to make sure our plan doesn't get ruined, so it's not really going to matter who's who. Hopefully we can get Salvo and Milo back in charge after all this."

The Loch Stock Liner started to descend.

"So, there might be a panic when everything starts," said Albus. "There's kind of going to be… er… an _incident_… when we park in Digher Straits."

"Albus, you _are_ an incident," replied Neema, and Alec chuckled.

"Yes, well, an even more severe incident than usual," said Albus.

"Oh, hell, you're going to see really soon anyway, so we might as well tell you," said Alec, looking at Albus.

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Albus.

He took a deep breath, as the ship started to rumble, signifying their entry into Digher Straits. Remy was still doggedly hanging onto the window.

"We're trying to lure the Loch Stock Stalker to the ship."

"Okay," said Neema, "and you think that our best chance at finding it is to _stay still?_"

"Yes," said Albus, "we've done it once already, but we weren't quite prepared."

"Almost died," noted Alec. "The Loch Stock Stalker, an enormous angry sea monster, viciously attacks any ship parked in Digher Straits."

"Great," said Neema. "And then after that, we'll go skydiving without parachutes into a volcano filled with Dementors?"

"Dementors don't live in volcanoes," observed Alec.

"But if it helped save the world, I'd even do that," said Albus. "And trust us, there's a reason we're doing this, and it hopefully won't end with the ship in pieces, because we still need to commandeer the ship afterwards, too, and fly it into a mountain."

Neema threw her hands into the air. "Right. FLY the submarine, and _crash it into a mountain._ You know what, you probably should just stop there, because I'm seriously starting to worry that you suffered brain damage in your escape last year."

"The point is, you might not want to be on the ship for the last part of the journey," said Albus. "So, once we take down the Loch Stock Stalker… It would probably be a good idea for you to take Remy and go. Ramoras save people who are stranded in the ocean, right? Could he swim you to shore, if you jumped ship right as we were about to switch to flight?"

"He could," said Neema. "And I could find some way back after that; you needn't spend too much time thinking about me in this. You shouldn't worry about me over the world—if getting me to safety might compromise your plan in any way, then you shouldn't try to get me to safety."

Albus quietly admired her bravery as they moved through the Straits.

"After this, though," she added, "please don't visit me again until I'm thirty; I'd like to live into my thirties if possible."

"But not your forties?" laughed Alec.

"Nah, life pretty much goes downhill after that."

The candles flashed and the Liner rose. They were making their first stop.

"Next time we go underwater," said Albus, "we break the window?"

Neema and Alec nodded.

The sounds of lively chatter passed their room, and the family exited the Liner; shortly after, it submerged again, and Neema aimed her wand at the wall.

"You want to do it?" asked Albus.

"Yes," she said. "Not that I don't trust you, but it has to be precisely aimed so it doesn't hurt Remy. We ready?"

Albus and Alec nodded.

Neema gestured to Remy, and he moved from the window to a position just in front of the window.

"_Reducto,_" she said, quietly but firmly.

The window shattered and disintegrated with the spell; water surged into their cabin. Remy swung himself around and flowed into the room with the current; Neema scooped him up in her purse, along with a fair amount of water so Remy could breathe, and she sealed it up.

An alarm sounded immediately, and then the window quickly materialized back into place; the water slowed to a trickle and then nothing, but they were still in ankle-deep water in the cabin. The alarm shut off when the window resealed.

Dembo burst into the cabin to find all three of its occupants yelling at each other. They all stopped and looked at him guiltily.

"She told me the glass was unbreakable on this ship!" accused Alec, pointing at Neema.

Neema threw her hands up in the air. "I didn't expect you to actually _try!_" she huffed.

Dembo put a hand over his face. "Why else, kids, would I have said 'don't smash the windows' in my speech to every person who boards this craft? You can only put so many spells on an object and this ship requires a lot, so we couldn't spare one to fortify the windows, in favor of one that heals broken parts of the ship. So yes, the windows remain breakable. They seal back up afterwards, but they're breakable. So please don't do that again."

Shaking his head, he left the cabin.

"Smooth enough," said Albus. "What do you think—wait a couple more stops? Then have Remy get to it?"

He extracted his wand, turning it over in his hand. This was a very sudden trip, but it had to be, in case Wilcox was about to put the same realization together. Still, it might have been good to rehearse a few spells beforehand. How was he going to incapacitate a deity? He had only beaten Terra because of the Bloodblade. Dismiusa, Werora, and Herpo had probably only won them through use of the Devoctrices.

"I may have to go swim around underwater at some point," said Albus. "Should we let Neema in on our Connectivity Charm, Alec?"

"Definitely," said Alec, casting the spell on her, and then Albus did the same.

"There's a couple spells you should definitely cast on yourself before you go out into the freezing depths," said Neema. "I've done a lot of diving, looking for exotic life for the aquarium, and in much the same way as you can't just step out into space, you can't just step out into the bottom of the ocean, either. You'll need something to resist the immense pressure, something to keep you warm, something to help you breathe, and something to help you see in the dark out there. I can cast all of those on you, if you need, except the Bubble-Head Charm, which you'll need to do yourself. And you should wait until the right time for that one anyway."

"I can actually cast all of those, too," said Alec. "It was mandatory training for anyone working on the ship."

A few more stops came and went, and then Albus nodded to Neema. She started casting spells on him that gave him very weird sensations; the first enhanced all of the colors in his vision to such brightness that he had to blink about twice as often as usual. The second sent a prickly warm sensation through his veins, and the third made his skin feel leathery and more solid. Albus also took the opportunity to recast his Supersensory Charm, just in case.

Alec finished casting the spells on himself, and they waited. Albus ran through a plan in his head for incapacitating Mara.

"The tricky part might not even be incapacitating the Loch Stock Stalker," he said. "It's gonna be hijacking the ship and steering it into the mountain."

"Leave that part to me," said Alec. "You worry about the Stalker."

"Let me know how to help either of you," said Neema. "I'm here, I might as well be useful."

"How's your Mermish?" asked Alec hopefully.

"Never learned much," said Neema. "I only remember how to say 'Where is the library' and 'This is a pen.'"

"That's okay," said Alec. "How are you at dodging half a dozen spells underwater at the same time?"

"I don't like where this is going," said Neema.

"We don't like a lot of the places we go," commented Albus.

They stared out the window solemnly as the Liner broke the surface, then descended, and then rose into sunlight again. Alec spent the time detailing his plan for the mutiny to Neema, and Albus pondered what attack plan he would use against Mara.

Albus suddenly straightened up in his seat as he stumbled across a memory, and a spell that could very well do the job in the upcoming fight. After all, it had led to victory against a Devoctrix user before… But as he thought about the details of this plan, he slowly realized an uncomfortable truth, which might affect him in any plan he could concoct to defeat Mara, not just this one.

"Think of something?" asked Neema, noticing his excited shift in posture.

"Neema," he asked, momentarily concealing his inner conflict. "Remy can anchor magical ships in place. Would he be able to do the same for an _animal,_ too? Would he… be able to attach to the Loch Stock Stalker, and stop the _monster_ from moving, too?"

Neema grinned. "I very much believe he would be able to do that. Although you'd better be sure that Alec and I have finished our job by then… If not, he'd have to detach himself from the ship, and the ship would start moving again. Remy can pass through solid objects as long as both sides are underwater—he'll be able to phase through the hull of the ship to go pursue the Loch Stock Stalker, even though he'll be on the inside."

"Okay," said Albus. "We're making our move on this next trip into Digher Straits. Is everybody ready?"

Alec and Neema both nodded with determination. Albus knew that everyone had plenty of determination; that wasn't the issue. What they needed was precision and luck.

"Then get Remy ready," said Albus, growing slightly sick at the thought.

"Are you sure _you're_ ready?" said Neema quietly. "You look a little… anxious. Are you sure you don't want to take a little more time? We've got a few more stops."

"No, it's fine," said Albus. "I'm worried, but I'm ready."

But the truth was, he was more worried than ready. If Remy was to attach to Mara, Albus wasn't sure that he'd be able to take down Mara without catching Remy in the crossfire, and he began to worry that Remy might not survive this encounter. Once again, the frantic thoughts began to creep into his head, about his similarities to the other morally corrupt individuals who were willing to sacrifice innocent lives for the causes they believed to be just. Remy was "just a fish," yes… But he was also a powerful magical creature who was intelligent enough to understand human speech and communicate back, and he seemed to be one of Neema's closest friends. Who was Albus to decide what lives did and did not matter, and was it worth the risk? The collateral was not just Remy's life, but the willingness in and of itself to throw such lives on the line for plans he wasn't even sure would work.

He looked over at Remy, floating in Neema's purse, looking up as Neema whispering the new instructions to him, and he prayed that Neema would forgive him… and Remy, too, if the little creature made it through the fight.

But it had to be done, with so much at stake here. Albus would give his own life if he thought it was their best chance to defeat Wilcox. And this plan here… However little time they had to concoct it, they had a lot of time before this where they could come up with nothing but small defensive measures against total annihilation. This was definitely their best chance, and he had to take it, no matter the risk.

"Okay," breathed Albus as they reentered Digher Straits and the familiar rumble picked back up. "Go."

"Now?"

"Now."

Neema placed her purse against the wall under her bench and whispered a spell. The purse turned sideways quickly enough not to spill any of the water, and stuck fast against the wall. With a quick second spell, the purse was rendered invisible, briefly showing Remy in the water along with the purse's other contents, which also shortly faded from sight.

Instantly, Albus was flung against the wall of the cabin as the ship halted all at once in a very sharp motion; Neema and Alec slammed against him, and they heard similar crashes and shouts through the walls from the other passengers. Some shouted obscenities, and doors flung open all through the hallway.

Albus began to sweat, anticipating the coming clash. It hadn't taken long the first time; soon Mara was going to arrive. He gripped both of his wands, and Alec slipped under the Invisibility Cloak.

Neema opened the door to join the other passengers who were shouting at Dembo for an explanation. Alec slipped out under the Invisibility Cloak while Neema covered him with her acting job, and he rushed towards the door to the cabins, ready to step outside as soon as he could.

Dembo waved his wand, and the lights in the hallway flashed. The passengers quieted down, and Dembo put a finger to his ear.

"Sounds like we've got a Ramora," he said, his voice cracking on the last word; he knew what it meant to be parked in Digher Straits. "Everyone, we will sort this out in just a few moments; we should be moving again in seconds. Until then, please return to your cabins and wait patiently while we attend to—"

There it was—Dembo cut himself off as the low, bone-rattling roar reverberated through the wooden ship, up their legs and through everyone's spine.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" came a shout from more than one person; others were crying out in other languages, or cussing loudly. Dembo didn't look much at ease himself, and he held fingers to his ears as he presumably listened to mental communication from his cohorts outside.

He straightened up suddenly, and fear left his eyes; instead, he looked as though he were a military type, getting and delivering orders.

"Everyone back into your cabins!" he yelled, and Albus sensed that Alec had something to do with the change in Dembo's mental state—the Imperius Curse, by the sound of it. The situation unfortunately called for it; Confunding would have been too slow, obvious, and unreliable here.

"WHY?" belted a particularly frantic American.

"Because we're in an emergency state," said Dembo, stepping subtly aside to allow room for Alec to squeeze by and get closer to the door. "The Ramora has parked us in Digher Straits and we're about to be accosted by the Loch Stock Stalker. Emergency protocol dictates that all passengers must go in their cabins and I will cast the spell to activate the emergency seatbelts; if you fail to comply you risk heavy fines and imprisonment for endangering all onboard with your carcass careening about, so MOVE!"

The impromptu emergency alert speech moved few people until the final line, and then the doors all slammed shut. Neema was last with her door open, and she and Albus exited into the hallway, closing their door behind them and headed towards the exit.

"This is gonna be like no duel we've ever had," said Alec's voice from somewhere behind Dembo, near the door. "These guys are trained to do all sorts of things underwater; they're gonna have the advantage on us, not to mention there's half a dozen of them. But we need to—"

He was interrupted by another bloodcurdling moan from the depths, much louder and obviously much closer, and probably angrier now that it saw they weren't leaving.

"We need to hurry?" guessed Albus.

"That, and we need to Imperius all of them, not just incapacitate them," said Alec, pulling off the Cloak and stuffing it in his robes, and replacing it with a Disillusionment Charm. "Incapacitation is a good start, but don't forget to Imperius them all or we won't have much of a chance of moving anywhere once we finish, and spread out the Imperius Curses between us so that if one of us gets knocked out, only a third would break free of their curses. Now, we've got to go, the Stalker is almost here!"

He ripped open the door. Albus expected a wave to rush in, but instead, a wall of water stood where the door was; it was enchanted to be able to be opened while they were underwater without flooding everything. Alec cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself and stepped through the water, then began to swim towards the other members of the crew. The crew noticed the disturbance right away, and began firing underwater spells towards the opened door; Albus and Neema followed suit with Alec, casting the Disillusionment and Bubble-Head Charms on themselves and following Alec. The Imperiused Dembo also joined their efforts, though not invisibly, hopefully to confuse the crew as to where the enemy was.

Albus slipped through the veil at the entrance, into the ocean, and his entire body almost went into shock at the cold. Quickly, Neema's spell warmed his muscles again so that he could move, and the spell on his vision adjusted his eyes to at least see shapes moving about in the darkness.

The light returned, and all at once, as a spell narrowly missed him; though he was invisible, the bubble around his head was harder to conceal. Albus returned fire, yelling spells into his bubble and hearing the muffled shouts of his friends nearby as they yelled out spells as well.

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Stricata!_"

"_Incarcerous!_"

Alec took to the front, and with brilliant speed for his underwater motions, he was deflecting the offensive spells aimed in their direction, while Albus and Neema fired off retaliations from the back. The spells traveled differently underwater—slower, and more erratic. But Alec's swift movements threw minor hexes in the paths of the enemy fire, which collided and Telescoped off into the distant ocean so that they didn't hit the trio. Dembo had made his way over to join the other crew members, and he was pretending to fire spells at Alec but missing badly on purpose. Unseen, he fired a spell sideways, and one of the navigators froze in place and began floating away. One of his coworkers fired off a rope to tether him to the ship.

Upon the second navigator dropped by Dembo, the other crew members realized he was fighting for the hijackers. But when the others turned their attention to him momentarily to Stun him, Alec and Neema fired off well-timed spells, and they both hit their targets; the _Stricata_ spells caused them to hit the deck, and follow-up Stunners from the pair rendered them immobile.

Two crew members remained in the way of their control of the ship, and they began setting up defensive spells now that they were outnumbered three to two.

"_Entrain,_" said Albus, remembering his new favorite spell from Professor Desulgon, and he imagined the bubbles around their heads popping, which would hopefully give the crew enough of a distraction that they could be incapacitated as well. But before he could follow through on this vision, his finally fully-adjusted eyes caught sense of what was also now sending his Supersensory Charm into a furor: a massive, dark shape was approaching from the distance.

The crew noticed it, too, and so did Remy, as Ramoras were able to sense powerful sources of magic. Remy detached and phased through the ship to pursue Mara, but the ship shifted as he detached, and the sailors realized they were able to move again.

Desperate to get the ship out of Digher Straits and save the passengers, the sailors made a dive for the wheel, knowing full well they would put themselves in the line of fire. Albus and Alec caught them each with a Full Body-Bind before they reached the controls of the ship, and they bobbed helplessly in the depths.

Albus looked up to see a massive tail swinging in their direction. He threw a Cushioning Charm on at the last second, and the giant, leathery fin on the end of the tail had a deadened impact that only shook the ship; it didn't dislodge from Digher Straits or start to break apart. A much harsher headbutt came next from the other side, and a giant horn pierced all the way through the ship. Air bubbles raced as the horn receded, but the ship healed its wounds rapidly and no one seemed to have been impaled on the other end. Albus prepared his wand, but the creature was moving remarkably fast for its size and it was going to be very difficult to aim… Even more difficult to stop the creature before it killed someone, or everyone.

And then the giant head of the Loch Stock Stalker rose before them, its whale-sized maw wide with shark-like teeth, and it rushed at the people standing outside the ship. It burst forward like it was shot out of a cannon, and the jaw began to clamp, which would surely be the end of all of them—

But it didn't make it all the way to the deck of the ship, and the jaw didn't close all the way. Instead, it began drifting away in the current. Neema pumped a fist, slowly with the dynamics of being underwater, and pointed: on Mara's underbelly, Remy was attached, holding on with all of his might.

Mara was enormous and powerfully magical, though, and it was shaking, trying to wrest itself free from Remy's grip. Albus turned and began firing Imperius Curses on the crew members; Alec joined in, but Neema was a bit more hesitant to perform an Unforgiveable Curse. Nonetheless, Albus and Alec covered the crew by themselves, and then lifted the restraining spells on all of them; the crew sped to work setting the ship to chase the Loch Stock Stalker.

Albus stood at the very tip of the bow, and as they approached close enough, he raised both wands at Mara and Remy.

"_Frisorba Vitigida!_" he cried out into his air bubble.

Sparks flew underwater from his wands, and then Frostflame roared out, consuming all of the water in its path towards Mara. Once it struck the creature, the Frostflame soared over its back, feeding off of the water all around it like real fire would behave if the creature was covered in gasoline. The flames engulfed Mara in seconds, and Albus released the spell as it worked its way all the way around the Sprite, sealing it in an enormous tomb of ice.

Albus was worried that this might kill Remy as well—but then Remy swam out of the ice, passing through the frozen water just as easily as he swam through normal water, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief at the power of the little fish.

But then Mara was stirring, and the ice was cracking. Albus whirled around to face Alec, who was right behind him, and shouted his secondary plan of attack into his head for Alec to hear through their Connectivity Charm; Alec nodded.

Albus and Alec gave the crew commands, and the Liner leapt into full speed, descending close to the depths of the straits and inching forward. Mara was breaking the ice at a faster rate now, and it seemed like the Sprite might break free any second, like Dismiusa in the same situation; but like Dismiusa, Albus had the killing blow set up before that could happen.

The Liner, now positioned directly under Mara, rose at the fastest rate it could handle; faster than when they broke the surface when they were flying Albus to India. It blasted upwards, and Albus cast a spell solidifying the spear-like mast of the Liner into the hardest of stone, right before it smashed through the fractured ice, impaling the Sprite directly through the stomach, and Mara gave off the most strangled of underwater roars.

The Liner descended, and blood poured from the wound. Albus fired one more spell for good measure—another blaze of Frostflame that seared up the mast and then shot upwards, directly through the Stalker's gaping wound, and froze the creature's innards. Mara burst in an explosion of bubbles, and all at once, flickered completely out of the view of Albus's Supersensory Charm.

Albus's heart leapt—it was exactly what he'd hoped for, a clear sign that he had successfully conquered Mara. Two out of three.

_Time to get going to India!_ he exclaimed inwardly to Alec and Neema. _Faster to fly, right?_

_It's always faster to fly,_ said Alec. _The Liner utilizes the Blicks in the sky even more efficiently than the ones underwater or underground—it's just a little bumpier. And we can land anywhere we want, not just where there's water. Although water would probably make the landing a little smoother._

_You could tell people we Imperiused you,_ said Albus, this sentiment directed to Neema. _They should believe you—we Imperiused everyone else necessary in this plot, after all. But do you want us to wipe your memory so they can't use your memories or any truth serums to convict you?_

_That'd be swell, I suppose,_ thought Neema as the crew got to work preparing the ship for flight. _As long as you're sure you're done with me._

_We are,_ thought Albus. _Thank you so much._

_Don't mention it. I did my part, I did what I had the power to do, and that's just what needs to happen in a war. Good luck to you both on everything else._

Neema scratched under Remy's chin, if fishes had chins, and she beckoned him to follow her. They stepped past the veil of water, and Neema reached back to take Remy into her hands. Albus led Neema back into the hall with cabins as the ship began to move forward again, and it began to rise. Neema carried Remy back into their cabin, and deposited him into her purse full of water again, where Remy swam about happily, pleased with the job he'd helped accomplish. Albus leveled his wand at Neema, but hesitated.

"Oh, come off your reservations and just do it," said Neema. "It's for the best. Just promise you'll tell me the story afterwards. This was pretty awesome."

"_Obliviate,_" said Albus, and with his disciplined wand and his study of memory theory, he selectively erased himself and Alec entirely from Neema's mind.

As she shook her head to clear it, he slipped back out onto the deck of the Liner, fighting the immense downward pull of the water as the ship sailed upwards towards the surface.

_Secure yourself,_ Alec thought to Albus, pointing at all of the crew members who were casting _Stricata_ on their feet. _It's gonna get pretty rocky._

Albus and Alec copied the crew, and then they watched as the crew all did their jobs to prepare the Loch Stock Liner for flight. They burst through the ocean surface, and the crewmen The Liner soared into the air like it weighed as much as a paper airplane.

"Set course to the peak of Mount Solaeris," said Albus. "Let's see if we can't find Aether there."

* * *

_**I've been really impressed with some of the chapter titles people have been able to guess, and how close some of the others were. Some titles people guessed were even chapter titles in the first draft but which Andy and I changed later. You can see the chapter titles that people guessed correctly on the first chapter of this story. I'll go through the reviews again soon to make sure I didn't miss any that people got right. And keep leaving guesses in reviews if you'd like! I'll keep updating.**_

_**See you again soon!**_


	15. Solaerial Summit

__CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SOLAERIAL SUMMIT

O

"There's India," said Alec not a minute after Albus rejoined him on the dock, pointing.

They were approaching from the air at breakneck speed. The peninsula was zooming in like it was erupting from the sea.

"That was so fast," said Albus. "So… You ready for this?"

"I was born ready to jump out of an airborne ocean vessel onto a mountaintop," said Alec.

"I sincerely doubt you were _born_ ready to do that as an infant."

"I was a hardcore baby."

Albus smiled in spite of everything, and he readied himself next to Alec. Now the outlying islands were coming into view, and with them, the peak of Mount Solaeris began to present itself to them.

"Get ready," said Albus. "When we jump, we're not just going to go straight down. The horizontal momentum we already have from being on this speeding ship is going to keep carrying us in the direction of the mountain. We've got to jump way earlier than when the ship crosses over the mountain."

"Really?" asked Alec.

"Yes. You'd have known that if you'd taken Arithmancy with the rest of us."

"Sorry, couldn't take Arithmancy. I was too busy peeling off my fingernails and doing other equally enjoyable activities."

"We're gonna be jumping really soon," said Albus, getting ready.

Alec started. "What? Really?"

"Yes, really! Long story short, we have to jump so that the time it takes for us to fall is exactly the same time as it will take the Liner to get to the mountain—though maybe that discounts wind resistance—"

"Don't we have brooms?!"

Albus blushed. "Er. We might."

"For a genius, Albus, sometimes you're an imbecile!"

"And for an imbecile, Alec, sometimes you're a genius."

They mounted their brooms, and as the Liner passed over the mountain, they soared up into the air. Pulling to a stop, they watched the boat zoom off into the distance. They mentally snapped their Imperius Curses to reduce their mental and magical stress load, and to allow the men to land the ship and return the passengers.

"All right," said Alec, and he flew in towards the peak. "Time to see if Aether's home!"

"No, don't—"

With a loud reverberating _boom,_ Alec smashed into the barrier on the mountain that was cast to prevent more than one person from scaling the mountain at a time.

"Did you forget about the force field?" chuckled Albus.

"No, I was just really in the mood for a concussion," snapped Alec, rubbing his nose and checking his broom for damage.

They sailed upwards until they were directly over the peak, which was obscured by clouds. Albus and Alec both descended until they landed on the very top of the domed force field. They stood next to each other on what appeared to be thin air, but could only barely see each other through the fog. When the person currently climbing Mount Solaeris passed back through the shield again, it would go down for a moment to allow a new person to enter. Albus was hoping that even though the barrier was usually only supposed to let one person through at a time, maybe if he and Alec were both standing directly on top of the barrier, they'd both fall through at exactly the same time. If not, then the person who did pass through could go looking for Aether. But it would likely have to be Albus who defeated Aether—they probably had to have one person unite all three Natural Sprites in order to construct Pyron, so if Alec defeated Aether and Albus had the other two, it probably wouldn't work.

Albus looked over to see his friend still rubbing his sore face from the collision.

"At least you sailed the Liner far enough over the mountain that it missed the force field," said Albus, smiling. "Otherwise they may have had to change that 'Hazard-free since 1883' slogan…"

"They'll probably have to change it anyway, given what we just did," laughed Alec. "And hey… by the way…"

Albus paused a moment to allow him to continue, but Alec didn't finish. "What?"

Alec paused to find the right words, looking like he was worried he'd say the wrong thing. "I'm just happy to see you laughing and joking like usual," he finally explained. "Just wanted to say I'm glad about that. That the Chaos Contagion doesn't seem to be eating your mind as fast as Aidan and I were afraid."

"No, I'm all right," said Albus. "And it helps that we're on the attack, now. I'm feeling more optimistic than I've felt in a while… we're finally at an advantage. Two steps ahead of Wilcox on this front."

"Those two steps being pretty huge," said Alec. "Terra and Mara, that is."

"Hopefully three steps, soon," said Albus.

At the same time, they both looked down. Nothing could be seen through the thick white cloud obscuring everything, including them.

"We'll have to wait and see," said Albus.

O

Aidan stared in fascination. The Inevertre potion was working. Out of the pores of Cynthia Birchbaum's skin seeped a strange substance, with motions that were entirely foreign to him. Watching the pulsing cloud of solid emotion was like watching the dynamics of something he'd never experienced before, like the first time he'd seen a ball of plasma. It shifted and churned and morphed so strangely it seemed like it was existing in infinite dimensions, always showing them a different side that it had never shown before. The color, too, was entirely unusual. It was neon and dark at the same time, almost like a layer of oil on the surface of a deep ocean at sunset, but it instantly felt like something he had known countless times despite never having seen it with his eyes. It was the color of his soul every time he thought of Rose, or the sacrifices his mother and father gave to him, or the friends he wanted to save from the descending darkness. It was the color of phoenix song, or perhaps something even more intense; a phoenix _anthem._

It spoke directly to his emotions, which he only supposed made sense. Simply staring into this entity gave a warm purr in his ears, a soft touch on his skin, a smell and taste of heaven. Just being in the presence of this emotion was one of the most powerful experiences of his life; it communicated beauty directly into his mind. There could be no doubt that what Cynthia Birchbaum felt for Dalton Desulgon was indeed true love.

"_Stolidify,_" said Victoire, with a wand aimed at Cynthia.

And with a rush of air and the sound of distant wind chimes and church bells, the cloud of love raced off into the distance at breakneck speed.

The four jumped onto their brooms and pursued. As per the plan, Teddy was casting constant Anti-Disapparition Jinxes on as much of the surrounding area as possible, and redoing the jinx every time they moved far enough away from the original one, taking care that no matter where they found Desulgon, he wouldn't be able to just Apparate away from them.

Teddy drifted closer to Aidan on his broom. "Hands, remember," he said, tapping his own hands each in turn.

Aidan understood what Teddy meant—he was confirming that Aidan remembered that he was instructed to go for Desulgon's hands first, with spells like _Incarcerous,_ or _Inmanatum,_ the Handcuffing Hex. Once Desulgon realized he couldn't Disapparate, he would try to use a Devoctrix to teleport away instead, and he would have to move his hands in order to activate one of those.

"It's fading," said Victoire. "Another dose."

The _Inevertre_ potion wore off, and the emotion became ethereal once more. Cynthia Birchbaum halted on her broom, and gulped down another dose of the potion. Another cloud of the love poured out of her skin; Aidan felt a surge of pity well up inside him as he observed the process.

"That sucks," said Aidan.

"What does?" asked Victoire, drifting closer.

"That something so beautiful," he answered, looking into the emotion, "could cause so much distress. That she's still under the effects of Stolidify and can't appreciate the beauty of this emotion she birthed, even if it caused her more than her fair share of pain."

"Unfortunately, nothing in this world is purely good," said Victoire. "We wouldn't be alive without the Earth, yet sometimes its tectonic plates shift and kill thousands. The sun gives warmth but burns our skin. Dumbledore often hinted that love is the most powerful force in the world, but he never said its power was purely good."

"But… just being in the presence of this emotion is making me feel only the best things I can imagine feeling," said Aidan.

"And how would you feel if you knew that those feelings were accessible, but you couldn't reach them? That's how Cynthia feels." Victoire's mouth twitched. "Even Teddy and I are hurt sometimes by our love. I love him so much that disagreeing with him even on my deepest convictions makes me doubt myself. I love him so much that I'm terrified for his safety every second of the day."

"Love is supposed to make you feel good," said Aidan, a bit uncertain.

"Who said that?" chuckled Victoire. "Love is supposed to make you feel _human._ And that's not always good."

Suddenly, the love cloud shifted directions all at once, and immediately sped off at a different angle.

"Whoa!" shouted Teddy, and they all skidded in the air on their brooms to shift directions, rocketing after the cloud. "He must have Disapparated, or whatever form of teleportation. I hope he's closer than he was."

"Is he definitely in this general area?" asked Aidan. "Or is it possible he's on the complete other side of the globe? How long might it take us to find him?"

"I infiltrated the Ministry and set up a border recorder," said Teddy. "He's definitely here in Argentina. Or he was, when I set it up. Obviously he was here, or I couldn't have initiated the border recorder. Anyway, let me check the Locular."

He closed his eyes, concentrating on his Locular Charm, which allowed him to see a view of the charmed object whenever he closed his eyes. Aidan presumed that Teddy had cast it on the border recorder, to keep an eye on an indicator of Desulgon's location. Victoire drifted closer to place a hand on his shoulder and steady his broom.

"I know the border recorder can check whether one particular individual has crossed one particular border," said Aidan, "but if Desulgon crosses, we won't know _what_ country he crosses into, will we? Or are the Ministry's border recorders better?"

"No, we're basically screwed if he leaves Argentina," said Victoire, "given that if he does, he could be anywhere in the world at all. It was an incredible stroke of luck that we found out he was in this country at all, even if we didn't know exactly where in the country—and that's a stroke of luck we're not likely to get again."

When Teddy had finished concentrating on the Locular, he opened his eyes again.

"Yes, he's still in Argentina," said Teddy. "Thank Merlin."

"You're sure?" asked Aidan.

"Definitely. The border recorder would have detected if he crossed a border, even if he crossed it by any form of teleportation. He didn't, so he's still in this country."

"What is he doing in Argentina, anyway?"

Victoire sighed. "He's… well, you know he's a bit… _insane_ at the moment…"

"According to a local who interacted with him, he's trying to dig a hole to China," said Cynthia.

The love cloud shifted directions again—back towards where they had initially been heading. Teddy cast another Anti-Disapparition Jinx as they realigned their course with the emotion's.

"He was probably getting food or something and then returned to his hole," said Cynthia.

"This is taking us in the direction of the city of Rosario," said Teddy. "That's perfect—that's where he was last seen."

"We ought to be careful," said Cynthia. "Wilcox will probably have men patrolling any areas where Desulgon was recently seen, so we should try not to make our presence known."

"Good news that we're headed in the direction we think we should be," said Victoire. "The hole he's digging must be somewhat close to the city."

At almost the same time as she said it, the cloud swerved downward, and disappeared through the solid rock on the ground.

Teddy flicked out one more Anti-Disapparition Jinx, and then leveled his wand at the ground. "_Finite Incantatem._"

The rock below them flickered and then faded, revealing what the illusion had been cast to conceal: A hole so impossibly deep that it didn't seem to have a bottom.

As they listened, they could hear grunts echoing from far below, as someone was casting spells to dig. They each took in a deep breath and clutched their wands tighter.

Teddy nodded his head at the pit, as if to say, _Only one way to go now._

O

Albus sighed. He wanted to pace around on top of the dome, but he also didn't want to lift either foot up off the dome, in case it suddenly let Alec through without him. "It shouldn't be taking this long," he contemplated aloud.

"Yeah," said Alec. "I was just thinking the same thing. Isn't there usually a set limit on how long each person can spend up here at a time? It's been way longer than whatever that limit probably has to be."

"Maybe it's designed so you can't enter from the top," said Albus. "I mean… they've had to have had problems with this before, now that I think about it. If people could just sail up to the top and slide in when the current tourist exits, then it wouldn't be such a mystery what's at the top of Mount Solaeris, honestly."

"So maybe the top of this barrier can't be passed through at _all_," said Alec. "What do we do now?"

Albus reached into his pack. "Well, we do the same thing we do every time there's a barrier we can't pass through." He extracted Swait's knife.

"Right," said Alec. "The Devs always trump everything."

"Except each other," said Albus. "So let's hope that this shield isn't a Dev more powerful than the knife… and let's also hope that Pyron is more powerful than Wilcox."

He cringed momentarily—the thought hadn't occurred to him that the power of Pyron might not be enough to defeat Wilcox. But he couldn't stop going now just because of being anxious. Anxiety was basically his life now anyway.

He slid the knife down into the shield; it sliced easily, all the way through to the other side. He carved a good-sized hole into the shield, and he and Alec mounted their brooms and floated gently down. The mist grew thicker around them.

"If they find out we're up here, it could be bad for us," said Albus.

"They'll send an underage team up here to fight us," said Alec. "We'll whoop them. I think we're okay."

"We should still be fast, though," said Albus.

"Agreed."

"Supersensory Charm on?"

"Yeah, it still is."

"Good. Mine too."

Albus and Alec drifted through the fog, continuing downward to try and touch land, as Albus tried to remember what all the dangers of Mount Solaeris were. He forgot how pleasantly warm it was up here—unlike most mountains, where it got colder as you climbed, Mount Solaeris grew more humid and tropical as you reached the top. It was probably the influence of all the native phoenixes. They descended slowly in search of a gentle landing.

"What do you think Aidan is doing now?" asked Alec.

"I don't know," said Albus. "Looking for us, maybe." _I just hope to Merlin he's not in a ditch somewhere._

"Ah," said Alec. "There we go."

Albus understood what Alec meant when, just a second after Alec, his feet touched solid ground. They dismounted their brooms.

"_Aerata,_" came Alec's voice from next to Albus—the Aeration Charm, intended to clean surrounding air. But while the clouds swirled from his charm, the fog did not lift.

"Find which way is up," said Albus, "and head that way."

He shuffled his feet, which he couldn't even see, to find the direction that the ground was sloping. They started upwards, climbing towards the peak that Albus could only assume was already close, since they had started so far up the mountain.

His heart caught up with the realization that nobody had ever returned alive from the peak of Mount Solaeris before, and his blood surged with adrenaline and fear. He knew that if he and Alec died up here, there was nobody else who knew about the Natural Sprites, except for Wilcox, and no one would be able to stop him from gaining the power of Pyron.

He gave a jolt of surprise as he bumped into something—it was Alec. The clouds at the peak were so thick he couldn't even see his nose, let alone his companion. He had lapsed on his attention to his Supersensory Charm.

"Watch it," grunted Alec. "Just because you're destined to be the savior of mankind doesn't mean you get to walk where I'm walking."

Albus put a hand on his chest, feeling his Fiendfyre scar. Most times, he tried to forget it was there, but this journey was reminding him. Aether, the Sprite they were seeking, had evidently once dwelled within the foul wizard who had given him that scar. And the last time he was here on Mount Solaeris, Herpo the Foul was threatening to take over his mind through that scar…

He almost wished he had a connection to Herpo's mind like his father did with Voldemort. He had no idea what Herpo was up to now; the Dark wizard had been alarmingly silent, with his only stirring being the brief and uninformative appearance of his servant a few months before, and there was no telling what he was plotting in his absence. Hopefully nothing—hopefully he still didn't have a new body yet. One could hope, at least.

"It's _really_ warm up here," remarked Alec. "And do you smell a fire?"

Albus wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. "We must be close to a phoenix."

"Wait, do you think we could get a phoenix while we're up here?" asked Alec. "That would be crazy helpful, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes," said Albus, "but as Aidan said a while back, you don't _get_ a phoenix. There aren't phoenix pet stores up here. A phoenix has to _choose_ you… You have to be worthy enough for the phoenix. Not the other way around."

"We're worthy," said Alec. "We're trying to save the world!"

"That's what Wilcox thinks, too," said Albus. "If there's one thing I've learned from all this, it's that there are a lot of people willing to go to great lengths for what they think is right, and everyone disagrees on what the 'right' thing to do is. You and I both believe we're doing the right thing, of course, but the phoenix is its own judge."

As he finished speaking, there was a rush of wind all around him.

"I already tried _Aerata,_ Albus," said Alec, "and it didn't work."

"That's not me," said Albus, instantly tapping into his Supersensory Charm to see what was around him. There was a large entity, directly ahead, and it was moving.

And then the clouds cleared, and the presence he sensed was revealed.

It was a gigantic phoenix, much larger than any live phoenix or even in any picture that he had ever seen. And it was much different in some other ways as well. While most phoenixes were scarlet and gold, this one was a stunning shade of sapphire and silver. Its tail was longer, wrapping three full times around the massive nest in which it had landed. It was dispelling the fog with flaps of its enormous wings, which were casting out mystic blue embers and shimmering like mirages. The nest on which it sat was made of coals, which glowed in a midnight shade of blue. The mist receded entirely, and they found that the nest was sitting atop the very summit of Mount Solaeris.

Albus debated whether to risk offending the creature by making a move for his wand. Was this Aether? Some very strong instinct told him that it wasn't. This creature was controlling air, but also fire. Aether was strictly air. Neither Terra nor Mara had shown any degree of influence over fire; why should Aether? No, this was something else. They were in the presence of some sort of… phoenix royalty.

_Holy shit,_ thought Alec into their mental Connection from the Connectivity Charm. _No one's ever seen this thing and lived! Is it friendly? Is it going to kill us for seeing it? Should we… What should we do?_

_I have no idea, _thought Albus back. _State our case, maybe?_

_You do that,_ thought Alec. _You're better at the sweet-talking. I'll get ready to attack if it threatens you._

The royal phoenix snapped its head forward, clearly glaring at Alec. Its wings, either made of the blue flame or simply coated in it, burned even more angrily.

_Did it HEAR me thinking that to you?_ whimpered Alec inwardly.

_I don't know, _thought Albus. _But just in case, don't think anything else stupid._

_But that's the only stuff I think._

Albus waited a moment for the previous offending remark to blow over with the royal phoenix, and then he stepped tentatively forward. The phoenix did not recoil; it didn't react at all. He suspect it knew everything he was about to say, but he said it anyway.

"I… I am Albus Potter," he said. "I, er, don't know if that means anything to you…"

The phoenix let out a derisive snort in the form of two blue fireballs, one out either nostril.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered, more nervous than he had been in any duel. "So… the thing is… I also don't know if this means anything to you, but… a lot of people are probably going to die, soon… but it can be prevented. And I can prevent it."

The phoenix turned its head to look at him through one shining eye.

"I've spent a great amount of time thinking about whether or not I am qualified to decide these things," said Albus. "And I've come to the conclusion that I am. Not only because my death would change nothing about my plans, but because I understand that preserving life is not the same thing as preventing death."

The phoenix nodded.

"I admit that I have taken life," he said, hoping desperately that these were the right things to say. "But always in the interest of protecting life. If I had died without anyone knowing the truth about Helio Wilcox's plans for death, I risked far more death than I had to gamble when I took Zayn Valon's life. Although that death may not have been necessary, I couldn't take the chance of saving him, in case it _was;_ and although I understand that death may be necessary in some cases, I always seek to find the paths that require the least of it. Although I seek to limit death, I also do understand that it's not the worst fate that can befall a person; and although I understand it's not the worst fate, I hold the strong belief that everyone should have the opportunity to experience life to the fullest in the only chance they'll get at it."

He took more deep breaths. The phoenix, if he had to guess, might have been smiling.

"So I know that many decisions of what needs to be done are in shades of gray," he continued. "And I've made one of those decisions now. I'm going to pursue the decision of reuniting Pyron. Because I believe it's what needs to be done to fix things. I'm willing to sacrifice whatever I must to protect whatever I can. I may not know everything about what is right and wrong, but I know that Wilcox is wrong, and so I know that opposing him is right." He swallowed a lump in his throat, and then mustered up the courage to look the phoenix in the eye as he finished. "Can you assist me?"

The royal phoenix craned its neck up, and it cried out to the skies above in a voice that was like a violin chorus in flawless harmony; if a smaller phoenix had a phoenix song, this was like a phoenix anthem. Albus had the feeling that he could adjust his ear to hear a hundred different distinct melodies.

Out of the sky drifted another phoenix, this one of the more familiar color and size. It approached and landed lightly in front of the royal phoenix, staring at the boys.

The royal phoenix cooed, and Albus felt a gentle tickle inside his head, as if it were speaking directly into his mind. He instantly had the impression that the royal phoenix was instructing the lower phoenix to judge him and Alec and see if they were worthy of a phoenix's company.

The phoenix hopped closer to them. It looked Albus up and down, and then met his stare. Albus held his gaze, and the phoenix nodded.

Then, it hopped over closer to Alec and looked him up and down as well. It took a longer time looking over Alec, then looked back towards Albus, and distinctly rolled its eyes and shrugged its wings.

"Hey!" protested Alec. "I'm freaking _spectacular!_"

Albus knelt down, until he was eye level with the phoenix. "I have some important questions for you to answer," he said. "Is Aether on this mountain?"

The phoenix shook its head no.

"Do you know where Aether is?"

The phoenix nodded its head yes.

Albus curled up his fists in excitement. "Can you take us there?"

The phoenix nodded again. It lifted off into the air, hovering with gentle pulses of its wings. It lifted its tail up, gesturing for Albus and Alec to grab it.

Albus looked back over to the royal phoenix. "Thank you," he said.

The royal phoenix raised a blue wing, and flickered each feathery tendril of flame. Albus's mind was abruptly flooded with emotion; he staggered backwards as his brain analyzed the sudden onslaught, and the biggest reaction he understood from the experience was fear. The royal phoenix had injected his mind with a strong sense of fear. Was it trying to tell him that there was danger ahead in this quest—that he needed to be afraid for some reason?

He looked over at Alec; from the look on his face, he seemed to have processed the same result out of the phoenix's movement.

Nevertheless, fear was expected and probably inescapable. Albus and Alec grabbed hold of the normal phoenix's tail, and they vanished in a wisp of flame.

O

Aidan placed a wand to his temple, silently casting a spell to enhance his vision to adjust to the darkness of the hole Desulgon had dug.

_Incredible,_ he thought to himself. _Such a brilliant mind… such a powerful force… such a potential to do good in this world… and he's gone insane and is digging a big hole. Really hope this never happens to Albus…_

Teddy looked over to Aidan; when he saw Aidan glancing back at him, he pointed to his hands again.

Aidan nodded. _Yes, I remember. Go for his hands so he can't use a Devoctrix to escape us._

Teddy reapplied the Anti-Disapparition Jinx, as he had done half a dozen times already on their descent. The hole was so deep, they kept descending out of range of the jinxes he'd already cast.

They were beginning to sweat; as Desulgon dug deeper, it was hotter. Eventually, Aidan knew, the crust of the Earth would turn to the mantle, and he had no idea how Desulgon was planning on digging through the molten rock—magma could not be enchanted by magic. Even Gallen Ingot, with the power of the Devoctrices, could only force it up out of the ground by applying pressure to the rock surrounding underground magma stores; he couldn't actually manipulate the lava.

A dull glow was approaching them from the bottom. Aidan kept a wary lookout with his Supersensory Charm, but it didn't seem to be specifically where Desulgon was. As the heat started to become unbearable, it became clearer that they were approaching the bottom of the hole, and at the bottom was a pool of lava.

_But the cloud disappeared down here,_ thought Aidan. _So…_

They descended as close as they dared to the molten flow, where they noticed that the hole got immensely wider at the bottom. It seemed as though Desulgon had dug into a natural open chamber with magma at the bottom, but not pressurized magma, as it wasn't erupting and didn't look like to anytime soon.

There were still echoes of digging noises; turning their heads towards the source, they found a new hole in the walls of the chamber, where Desulgon had apparently started digging to the side in order to work around the magma.

Teddy jerked his head in that direction, and they adjusted their brooms towards the hole and sailed off. As they flew closer, a pile of rocks ejected itself from the hole and splashed into the magma below. They could hear Desulgon whistling not far beyond.

They sailed through the hole, getting ready to dodge any other rocks that Desulgon ejected in their direction. They heard the spells he was using: _Defodio. Evanesco. Wingardium Leviosa,_ for which they ducked low as some larger rocks flew past them in the sizeable tunnel, splashing into the magma outside. Aidan steadied his breathing and readied his wand. They rushed forward as quickly as they could fly quietly.

"What little critter crawlers have come a-creeping in my cave?!"

Teddy lashed out, strengthening the Anti-Disapparition Jinx, as Aidan propelled forward and unleashed a nonverbal _Inmanatum._

"Whoa-ho!" cried Desulgon, his manic face lit up by the jet of the spell as it sailed his way. He seemed as excited as if he was in one of his competitive duels.

This wasn't good; they were hoping to have cornered him before he noticed them coming. Desulgon was an insanely good duelist, presumably even when insane, as he set himself on the ground and with only three spells he had already blasted Cynthia off of her broom and magically glued her to the ground. Victoire sent a Stunner in his direction; even if Desulgon had learned the trick for recovering from a Stunner like Elbad Swait had mastered, it still could give them a second to incapacitate him otherwise. Desulgon deflected the spell on a Conjured mirror; the spell hit the ceiling, and the entire tunnel rocked with the force of the blow. Rock rained from the ceiling near Desulgon, and he had to turn to block himself from getting crushed, and the ground near where Cynthia was restrained split open, with a pool of magma bubbling out of it. Until then, the only light had come from the jets of spells, but now the fiery lava glow filled the tunnel.

Cynthia struggled; the magma was seeping in her direction, slowly but with purpose. The molten rock flowed towards her motionless arm with nothing else to stop it from engulfing her arm and then head. At that moment, or perhaps before, the _Stolidify_ spell was beginning to wear off, and her emotions returned to her as she watched the magma creeping towards her. She screamed in horror.

Some human part of Desulgon responded, noticeably and urgently. He was watching the woman who loved him with almost certain death setting upon her if no one intervened, and he launched a spell to free her from her invisible bonds—

But the spell never reached. Taking advantage of his distraction, Aidan fired off the Handcuffing Hex at Desulgon, and the single moment of weakness was enough; Desulgon's hands slammed against his chest, restrained by magical cords, and his wand flew out of his hands, landing atop the magma and bursting into flame.

The lava flow continued; Aidan knew that his choice had cost her, and by the time he had sent _Levicorpus_ at Cynthia, the lava flow had reached her. She shrieked in agony as the flow set upon her hand just before Aidan's spell lifted her into the air, and Victoire rushed out a spell to put out the fire that engulfed her hand, but it did nothing against the fire that had germinated from magic-resistant magma; magically summoned water did not even stop it. By the time Cynthia smothered the fire in her robes, she was already badly burned. Three of the fingers on her right hand were charred and black from the brief contact. Teddy freed her from the levitation and set her against the wall far from the magma flow.

"Madam Birchbaum, I am _so, so sorry,_" choked Aidan, cringing at the terrible pain she must be enduring on his behalf. If he had waited a second longer, Desulgon could have freed her before the lava reached her… but then he also might have been able to defend himself.

Cynthia shook her head. "I'm p-p-proud of y-you," she heaved, taking shuddering breaths. "It was—was the—the right thing." She glanced over to look at Desulgon.

Unsurprisingly, he was giggling.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Teddy. "Come on, Victoire, Aidan. We've got to get him to safety, somewhere he can't—"

"What, somewhere where I can't cast a Devoctrix?" interrupted Desulgon. "You can't keep me from casting them, you know. I like them too much."

"I think we _did_ stop you," said Aidan, though his voice lacked confidence.

"You sure you want me to prove you wrong?" he said, cracking his grin into an even wider smile.

Teddy lifted his wand again, nervous that Desulgon wasn't just bluffing.

"Too late!" exclaimed Desulgon, now howling with laughter.

There was a pulse of light and a few following shimmers as a crystalline barrier blossomed between Desulgon and his aggressors. A vortex of pulsing energy grew behind Desulgon as well—a portal.

"How is he doing that?!" barked Teddy.

"What, did you think I still needed _hands_ to perform Devoctrices?" shouted Desulgon triumphantly. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm a bit beyond that now! You say I'm insane; I say my mind has simply lost all inhibitions! That's not a bad thing, you know—it's shown me how to envision the movements inside my head instead of needing to project the movements with my hand. I can cast Devoctrices with my BRAIN now!" He tilted his head back and laughed to the cave's ceiling. "And NOTHING CAN STOP ME from achieving my lifelong goal of _becoming a bush!_"

Aidan cast a spell on the barrier formed by Desulgon's Barricant Devoctrix, but it bounced off without the smallest incident.

Desulgon shrugged with a smug smirk and stepped backwards towards the portal. "Well, bye-bye, all you butts."

"Bye-bye, indeed," cooed a voice from behind Desulgon.

Desulgon whirled around in shock. With the handcuffs on his wrists, there was nothing he could do as a figure emerged from the shadows at the very back of his tunnel.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

All four of the rescue party screamed as the green blast of death tore through the air, until it struck Desulgon directly in the heart.

Desulgon stood for a moment. He stood for a long moment. The barrier between them faded. The portal contracted and closed. And still Desulgon stood.

Then, slowly, he toppled over backwards, falling onto his back with a look of terror permanently etched upon the face that seconds ago was cackling with laughter.

Standing on the other side of his body—Aidan recognized him instantly from Albus's memories—was the servant of Herpo the Foul.

"Bye-bye _forever,_ in fact," he mewled at Desulgon's corpse.

With another wave of his wand, the servant broke off a jagged stalactite from the ceiling, and for good measure, sunk it all the way through Desulgon's heart, through to the stones below. Another pool of magma began churning to the surface, and Desulgon's body burst into flame, was engulfed and eaten by the magma, and disappeared.

Herpo's servant lifted his head up to look at Teddy, Victoire, Aidan, and Cynthia, all frozen in horror at what he had just done.

"I know I went a bit overboard with the maiming there," he apologized. "But you can never be too careful with these people."

He flashed a toothy grin.

"Looks like your wild card is Desul-_gone,_" he cracked.

O

Albus and Alec landed from their teleportation on a cold stone floor, in a dark room lit only with green torches.

Albus's throat closed up on its own; he remembered something like this. But it wasn't a happy memory, by any means. What had happened to him in a room like this one…?

"Aether is here?" he whispered to the phoenix, making sure this creepy room was their intended destination.

"Yes," came a soft reply in a very rough voice.

Albus ripped out both wands, as did Alec, and they looked into the corner of the room, where an ancient man sat in a chair with folded fingers.

Herpo the Foul cracked a wide toad's smile at his guests' arrival.

He seemed to have been expecting them.


	16. The Hostage

_**Trigger warnings for this chapter that I feel I should make known: There is a secondary plot introduced in this chapter that features a different character's storyline, and this story carries depictions of repeated attempts at using a position of power to achieve sex without true consent, by dehumanizing someone who is being held against their will. I will not be writing any scenes with explicit sexual conduct, but I wanted to depict this character's struggle. I felt it necessary to inform readers in case anyone has trauma that could be activated by reading the descriptions in these scenes. You can skip over the scenes if you feel you may not be able to read them. There will be more of these scenes in other chapters; please read with discretion.**_

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE HOSTAGE

O

Aidan seized hold of his hair, trying to comprehend. Had they been tracked and followed? Had Teddy been compromised with MM? How had the servant found them here?

Desulgon was gone—not just dead, but _gone,_ his entire body destroyed. As far as they knew, he had no Horcrux—he was smart enough to know that the gain wasn't worth the cost. He fancied himself invincible in combat, so that he didn't expect to need a safeguard, but he had not foreseen going insane.

Desulgon was one of the best defenses they could have had against Wilcox. Some deep part of Aidan, despite all the torment that Desulgon had put him and his friends through, wanted desperately to believe that Desulgon was not completely gone. That this had been an illusion, or Desulgon had created a Horcrux since losing his mind. But even if he had a Horcrux… by the time he got a body back, there might not be a world to save anymore.

"We've got him cornered," whispered Teddy. "No escape for him—the Anti-Disapparition Jinx is still on."

"I hate to barge in on such a nice reunion," said the servant of Herpo. "But we can't abide with any threats to the new world. People like Mr. Desulgon have no place in the world that is to come." He grinned cockily again, sending Aidan's blood into a boil. "Careful you don't fall down that path either. You might want to stay out of the way, lest you end up where Albus Potter will be ending up. You, young one—the fact that you are separated from his company now… may I assume that means you wised up?"

Aidan thrust a spell with as little warning as he could; the servant Dissipated it, and clucked his tongue.

"Mm, I wouldn't if I were you," he said, pointing up.

Aidan, though wary, followed the gesture, and turned his gaze up towards the ceiling. There was another chamber of magma above them, and it was already dripping from a crack in the ceiling caused by the previous battle.

"If you open that up, I doubt any of us would survive," said the servant. "No magic can stop the flow of molten rock, after all… as I am sure your friend Cynthia has learned well."

Cynthia glared at the servant, clutching her burned hand, in which she held her wand in just two fingers.

"I also don't believe you can magically heal the damage caused by that lovely magic-resistant substance," continued the servant. "So you might want to get used to holding that wand in your _left_ hand, dear."

"If the situation is this volatile, then I hope you would agree to surrender," said Teddy, "considering we are closer to the entrance than you and we would be happy to tear the ceiling down behind us as we go."

"You would really be willing to risk that?" laughed the servant. "No, I would think that if presented with such danger, you would lift that Anti-Disapparition Jinx so that you don't risk dying just for little old me." The servant cocked his head. "Which would also free _me_ up to escape, I suppose, and I rather enjoy that option. So in that case… Shall we test my theory?"

And he fired off a Gouging Charm that sailed over their heads and exploded against the ceiling behind them.

Cracks burst across the rest of the ceiling as lava spouted from the hole, flooding the tunnel and billowing towards them at volcanic speeds. "_DISAPPARATE!_" cried Teddy, and there was no time to try and subdue Herpo's servant first; Teddy lifted the jinx with a flick of his wand, grabbed Victoire's hand, and Disapparated, all in the same motion. Aidan, who was closer to Cynthia, leapt in her direction and closed a hand around her ankle; he then writhed on the ground to make the turning motion in order to Disapparate. As his head swiveled around, a towering wall of magma came into his view, a wave about to crash. For a horrifying second, he thought he might not make it.

He slipped into the nothingness, holding on to Cynthia with all his might. They were separated from Teddy and Victoire now, but he wasn't going to lose Cynthia. After what he'd done to her hand on the gamble that didn't pay off…

They tumbled onto a street; Buenos Aires was the only location close enough to avoid Splinching that Aidan had remembered visiting. A car slammed on its brakes and its horn; Aidan tugged on Cynthia's arm and pulled her onto her feet; they ducked into a nearby alley.

"Sorry," said Aidan. "Only place I could think of…"

"It's all right," said Cynthia.

"And I'm s—"

"And don't apologize for the fingers, either," said Cynthia. "I'd have gambled far more than that for a chance to save him."

Verbally acknowledging the situation reminded her of what had just happened, and she raised her undamaged hand to her mouth. Tears began welling up in her eyes.

"You know Desulgon," said Aidan, trying to offer some comfort. "Have you ever known a person more likely to find his way back from that? Maybe he's still around. He could have…"

Cynthia extracted the bottle of _Inevertre._ She took a swig of the potion, and they watched as the emotion began pouring out from her pores again. The love formed into the pulsing cloud which hovered by her side. Then, she raised her wand in her left hand, then shook her head and switched it back to her right, holding it with her three unburned fingers. She raised her wand to her head again in a shaky, uncertain grip. "_Stolidify,_" she said, dulling her ability to feel her emotions.

The cloud never moved. It made no attempt to set out to find Desulgon. Which, Aidan knew, could only mean one thing, considering that their previous tests had shown that true love could find a person no matter where they went.

Cynthia was under the influence of _Stolidify,_ and was unable to emote. She simply stared into the cloud, coldly understanding the same realization that Aidan had just experienced. No tear left her eye, no fist curled up in anger. She simply stared. Instead, Aidan felt tears welling up behind his eyes in her place.

O

Herpo grasped a staff by his chair in one hand, and lifted himself up into a standing position, though he didn't look weak enough to warrant the staff… it was more likely a staff he used to cast spells. His green eyes flickered; his crusty lips smacked together; he stroked his long white beard with his free hand.

_Where's his servant?_ thought Albus to Alec. _His servant was with him last time. Where is he? Do you see him?_

_No, I don't… I don't sense him on the Supersensory either._

"You would want Aether?" asked Herpo, his English apparently not fully intact.

"Yes," said Albus, hoping to at least keep Herpo talking and not fighting—he didn't like their chances against the extremely learned Greek wizard, especially if his servant was hiding in the shadows. Neither he nor Alec had yet mastered the fickle finesse of Light magic, which was how Katarina Pinzel's daughter Rebecca had overpowered him. She made it look easy, but she was also one of the greatest duelists of their time. Herpo was no pushover, and he didn't care to find out just what kinds of horrible Dark magic spells were in his repertoire.

Responding to Albus, Herpo said something in Greek.

"Sorry, but we don't speak Ancient Douchebag," snapped Alec. "Where is Aether?"

Herpo didn't respond. He seemed like he was waiting for something to happen, which made Albus even more nervous.

_CRACK._

Albus nearly jumped out of his skin as the servant of Herpo the Foul appeared, bringing with him a smell of something burning. He wasn't facing their direction; he was bowed on one knee in front of Herpo. First, he spoke in Greek, and then he turned to Albus and Alec.

"My apologies for the delay," he said. "I was just visiting your friend Aidan, having a nice quick murder."

Whether or not this was a bluff, Albus wanted nothing more at the moment than to see that smug face get twisted up in intense pain.

The servant nodded his head at the phoenix standing behind them. "Nice bird. Pets are a big responsibility, you know. I hope you're ready to take care of him properly. Accidentally killing a _phoenix_—that'd be _really_ embarrassing, considering they're immortal."

Herpo said something else to his servant, and the servant yawned.

"I know, I know, you've been waiting for Potter here for months, and the one time I leave for more than a few minutes is the moment he shows up. As if I would have gone if it hadn't been important. Sheesh, can you believe this guy, kids? If you live long enough to become employed, I hope for your sake you never have a boss like this jerk."

"What do you want from us?" demanded Alec.

"Oh, right, the Sprite thing," said Herpo's servant. "Damn, I totally forgot about that. I've just been sitting here waiting for you, watching Disney movies and old reruns of _Batman_ so long that my brain has melted. Maybe the _Batman_ explains my new obsession with cute catchphrases. I bet I can think of one for this… Oh! I got one!" He clapped his hands together. "If you want the Sprite, I hope _Aether_ of you two is prepared to pay the price!"

"What does that mean?" asked Albus warily.

"Well, it's a pun. I said _Aether_ instead of _either_ because they sound—"

"We know what the pun was," growled Alec. "What is the _price_ you're talking about?"

"You'll be happy to know it involves no physical ailment to any of you or those you love," said the servant. "You'll walk out of here happy. We'll walk out of here happy. You can take Terra and Aether and, hm, how do you Brits put it? You can take them and bugger off."

_He doesn't know we have Mara, too,_ thought Albus.

_Should you attack Herpo?_ thought Alec back to him. _If he still has Aether… you could connect with his wand._

_I only beat him last time because of In Extremis. Are we willing to risk Herpo getting control of the power of Pyron if he overpowers me?_

"Hope you're not debating trying to connect with Herpo's wand," said the servant. "Fun fact: You can contain a Sprite without 'conquering' it, and Herpo has just sealed Aether away somewhere this time, without defeating him. So you wouldn't be connecting with my master's wand this time… even if he had a wand."

"So… what are you asking in return for Aether?" probed Albus tentatively.

"Oh, we're not asking much. Just a token, really, a trifle. You'll never even miss it."

He rocked back and forth on his heels, humming "I Just Can't Wait to be King".

"And the thing you want is… what?" pressed Alec.

Herpo cleared his throat. "One Elder Wand, if you please," he croaked triumphantly.

Albus tensed.

"Oh, what's the matter?" said the servant. "If your daddy pokes his head out of the ground, he'll be slaughtered by the Wilcox machine. We've been keeping tabs on the world; we know what's going on. The current master has no need for it and wouldn't use it even if he could because he doesn't want to risk Wilcox getting it. Give it here, so we can put it to good use. Don't you want us to destroy Helio Wilcox? Then you'd only have to deal with one enemy group. I think his vision for the world is even crueler than ours."

"And if Wilcox defeats you, he gets the Elder Wand in addition to all the rest of his firepower," said Albus, "and our situation becomes worse."

The servant raised a finger. "Ah, but then we'll have been eliminated as a threat and you'll only have to deal with Wilcox."

"And how do we know you're not working with Wilcox?" asked Alec.

"Because the man is a pompous dickbag who isn't the type to share any glory," said the servant. "And because we know he'd kill us once he was done with us. It's clear from your vacant expressions that the lights aren't all on upstairs, but even you can understand Wilcox is just as much a threat to my master as he is to you two."

_Why are we even laboring over this point anyway?_ asked Alec inwardly to Albus. _We're not ACTUALLY going to give him the Elder Wand… And we don't even really know how to find your dad even if we were considering it._

_I'm trying to think of an escape plan,_ thought Albus back.

_We have a phoenix. I think we can escape anywhere now._

_More specifically, I'm trying to think of an escape plan that involves making sure these two don't hurt anyone else ever again._

"If you want some time to decide, we'll let you go to find the Elder Wand and bring it here," said the servant. "But we'll need to receive a security deposit first. You know, to make sure you hold up on your end of the bargain."

"We haven't struck any bargain yet," said Albus.

The servant smirked. "But you will," he said. "Especially considering that your friend there is going to be the collateral. Be our guest, Alec!"

Herpo slammed his staff onto the ground, and a fissure opened in the stone floor beneath Alec's feet. Screaming, he tumbled into an abyss below.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Herpo's servant cackled. "Would you like to stay forever?"

A piercing screech from behind Albus made Herpo flinch and stagger backwards; he had enraged the phoenix. As Herpo's servant lunged at Albus, the phoenix wrenched its jaw open and a white-hot blast of phoenix flame sent him into a retreat. The phoenix vanished in a flash of fire, reappeared to intercept Alec's fall, and wrapped its tail around him. It vanished again, appearing by Albus to grab hold of his shoulders with its talons, and it sucked them into one more teleportation, whereupon they landed softly on a leaf-covered forest floor, streams of moonlight filtering through the treetops. A chilling breeze swept over them, but as the phoenix ruffled its feathers, they felt warmth like from a fire.

"Thank you," gasped Alec to the phoenix, lowering himself into a sitting position. He clutched his chest to let his heart, lungs, and senses recover from the terror of his sudden plunge.

The phoenix ruffled its feathers again and walked over to Alec, then playfully knocked him under the chin with its head.

"Crap," said Albus, sitting down alongside Alec and the phoenix. "We should have realized the possibility that Herpo had gotten a body back, and that the first thing he'd do upon returning to a body would be to recapture Aether. That's what the giant blue phoenix was trying to tell us when it made us feel that fear."

"I guess we got a bit ahead of ourselves," said Alec. "Shoot! We were so close. So Aether is their hostage… That's just a minor setback. We'll give them what's coming to them."

"Careful saying our plans out loud—anyone could be listening. But as for what you said, we don't even know where we were, down there with Herpo and the Loony Toon. How will we get back, if we don't know where we were?"

"The phoenix knows," said Alec, jabbing a thumb at the phoenix, which hummed in assent.

"Right," said Albus. "So… you'll stick with us a while longer, then?"

The phoenix nodded.

"Hey, would it terribly offend you if we gave you a name?" asked Alec, looking down at the phoenix. "It's just that we would like something to call you while you're in our company… other than 'the phoenix'."

The phoenix shrugged its wings.

"Okay," said Alec. "How about 'Humberto'?"

The phoenix made a retching noise.

"That was just a test," said Alec quickly. "Making sure you have good taste in names."

He looked slightly disappointed, though, at the rejection of "Humberto".

"Maybe we could name you after what you're helping us find," said Albus thoughtfully. "How about 'Sprite'?"

"I don't think he wants to be named after a sugary beverage," said Alec. "And as for not talking about our plans aloud, let's not give anybody hints by giving the phoenix a name that tells everyone exactly what we're up to if we ever use it in public."

"Good points," said Albus. "I just felt like it would make a good phoenix name, is all."

"How about 'Alfonso'?" asked Alec.

The phoenix looked back over at Alec and made another retching noise.

"Just… testing you again," said Alec, looking downcast.

"We don't need another 'Al' name," laughed Albus. "Or… do we?"

"Huh?"

Albus looked at the phoenix. "Do you have a gender preference for a name? Phoenixes don't have genders, do they?"

The phoenix shrugged.

"Maybe 'Alana'," suggested Albus.

Alec was quiet for a moment.

"Right," he said. "She died for your dad."

The phoenix nodded.

"Okay," said Albus. "Alana it is."

"Albus," said Alec, his face clouding over. "You don't think… You don't think that crazy guy was telling the truth, do you? Aidan's not dead… right?"

"I don't know how the hell he would have found Aidan, or vice versa," said Albus, shaking his head. "No. I think he was bluffing. Aidan is still out there, trying to find a way to make contact with us, and he will. I know he will."

Alec didn't seem convinced.

"He wouldn't have gone looking for trouble," said Albus, trying to convince himself with his own confidence, "and he wouldn't have let trouble find him."

"You knew where to find the thing we were looking for before," said Alec, looking over to Alana. "Do you happen to know where our friend Aidan is, too?"

The phoenix shook its head no, looking apologetic.

"Do you think the big blue phoenix atop Solaeris would know?"

The phoenix shook its head no again.

"We'll find him soon," said Albus. "Our fates are all crossed."

"Hope he's got a Deluminator," said Alec, crossing his legs. "So. What's the plan now? Knowing that Herpo has Aether?"

"Alec, you're saying our plans out loud again," sighed Albus. He turned around and cast a few quick defensive spells around their position, including _Muffliato_ to ward off anyone who might have wanted to tune in.

"Sorry." Alec stood up. "Wait. That actually gives me an idea."

"What gave you an idea? You saying our plans out loud?"

"Yeah," said Alec. "Okay, this might be a long shot, but… hear me out." He took a deep breath.

"Herpo said he was willing to fight Wilcox. They both know they'll have to fight eventually, with both of them seeking the whole world conquest thing. Maybe, if we lead Wilcox to Herpo early, and Wilcox catches Herpo by surprise and takes him out… Maybe we'll be able to swoop in and grab Aether before Wilcox knows we're there… before he knows Aether is there."

"I don't know," said Albus. "Even if we alert Wilcox to where Herpo is… How would we make sure that Wilcox actually takes Herpo out, and not just study him for a while? If Wilcox studies him, he might find out Herpo has what we're after, and then he'd spare no time busting in and stealing our package for himself."

"What if…" Alec paused. "So, this is why I had the idea after you said we should stop saying our plans aloud. What if we got near one of Wilcox's spies or listening devices… and started talking about our plans aloud? If we say aloud that you need to steal Aether by dueling Herpo… Maybe Wilcox will overhear this, think he has to go duel Herpo and then that would get him Aether. He'd go after Herpo right away. And while Herpo is distracted in the combat, we can sneak in and snag Aether ourselves."

"It's risky," said Albus. "Incredibly risky, to tell Wilcox what's there. If he beats Herpo in record time and beats us to the Sprite…"

"I know, I know," said Alec. "But we could feed his spies false information, pretend we're having a discussion about how we need to _duel_ Herpo to get Aether, just like you got Aether free by dueling Herpo before. If we lie when we know we're being spied on, we could say we need to _duel_ the person controlling the Sprite to gain control of the Sprite, and then Wilcox might not realize Aether is being kept elsewhere."

"And then we would wait until Herpo was vanquished, and we would be able to have the phoenix take us right to Aether," said Albus. "I'm starting to get fonder of this plan." He sighed. "It would be a very close call, though, making sure we get noticed by the most dangerous man in the world, and then having to escape before he sends someone to assassinate us."

"I feel like he'd want to let us talk for a while beforehand if he thinks we don't know he's listening," said Alec. "He'd want to wait until we finished what we were talking about, because he'd think we'd be telling the truth, unlike the lies we would tell him if he captured and tortured us."

"The truth, he could get with Veritaserum," said Albus. "But if we're talking about things he would never have known to ask the questions about… Then he would want to listen, in case we talk about more things he wouldn't have thought to ask us."

"Is this too dangerous?" asked Alec. "Is this a bad plan?"

"No," said Albus. "Actually, I really rather like this plan. Because of two reasons. It makes us much more likely to grab Aether and construct Pyron as quickly as possible before any more people die… But it also ensures either Wilcox or Herpo goes down, without anyone we love being put in any more danger. Now that sounds like a heck of a plan to me. Good thinking."

"Thanks," said Alec, grinning. "And as for escaping before they catch us… We do have a phoenix."

"We should hide the fact that we have a phoenix," noted Albus. "That's a nice advantage to keep a secret, if we can. Alana, would you mind hanging out in my bag when we eventually run this plan for real? There's plenty of space—I've got an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. And you can evacuate us when we've said what we need to say."

Alana clacked her beak in approval.

"Wilcox could track Apparition, though," said Albus. "And HERMAN, our Auror-created teleportation device. Could he track you?"

Alana shook her head no, vigorously and confidently.

"Excellent," said Albus. "Then we're back in business—another plan set! We're getting really efficient at finding new things to do."

Alec yawned. "Yeah, but are we ever going to sleep?"

Albus laughed. "Wow. I sort of… forgot about sleep after all this time. That might actually be a good idea. We want our minds sharp for this."

"Cast some more defensive spells and join me, I'm basically already asleep," yawned Alec. He curled up on the leaves below him and almost instantly nodded off.

"I'll get a sleeping bag out for you," said Albus, smiling.

Alec lifted a hand and waved Albus away, and then returned to his stupor on his leaf pile.

Albus cast a few more spells to secure their position, but before he even finished that, he felt sleep pouncing on him as well. His brain seemed to be attacking him with sleep the second he wound down. He stuffed the Invisibility Cloak and Hocus-Focuser and other contents of his robe pockets back into his bag so he could fall flat on his stomach and pass out right away; he whispered _blade_ to summon back the Bloodblade before the cut closed up, and stuffed that into his bag as well. He rolled out a sleeping bag and succumbed to slumber.

His rest, of course, was anything but restful—wracked with the stressful memories of the tense experiences he had undergone since the last time he closed his eyes for this long. His subconscious mind also ran through their next plan over and over, carefully imagining every way in which it could go wrong, of which there obviously were many.

When he opened his eyes again, it was cold and dark; he remembered that it had been night when he went to sleep, even though his brain was addled from either too much sleep or too little. He didn't know whether they had only slept a few hours, or slept through an entire day and woke up in the next night.

Albus looked towards Alec, who was still asleep. He noticed a slight red glow from behind him, and he looked around to see whether it was the sunset or sunrise. In fact, it was neither. Alana the phoenix was sitting on a low branch, cleaning her feathers one at a time with small puffs of exhaled flame.

Waiting for Alec to awaken, Albus silently reflected on everything that had come to pass since the moment Teddy arrived at Desulgon's base.

He searched his bag to look for the information web that he and Alec and Aidan had constructed with all of the questions and answers they'd formed and put together over their quest. But Aidan apparently was the one who had the web, and he was no longer with them.

He wished he could simply open up his enchanted suitcase and Alec and Aidan would pop out, just like they did when he began this journey to defeat Wilcox. But the magic was only enough for it to work once. If he ran into Aunt Hermione, he needed to remember to ask her for another one, to ensure that he wouldn't lose his friends again. Though he knew it was ridiculous to be angry with himself for not having more intense foresight than a Seer, he wished he had thought to keep the suitcase's magic for that reason and just to collect all his belongings by hand instead, or that they had gone over some sort of plan as to what to do if they were ever separated.

By the time Alec finally woke up, Albus had gone through a great deal of possibilities for what he would say when they could be sure Wilcox was listening. This was going to be difficult, but if they played it right, Wilcox would stay back and let them keep talking right until the moment they had to disappear. And then hopefully Wilcox would take the information they fed him and go to war against Herpo the Foul, distracting him long enough for them to seize Aether… There were a lot of hypotheticals here, but the risks were necessary. Who knew if Herpo would enact greater protections on Aether the longer they waited, or move Aether entirely. This was their best chance to defeat Wilcox by several light-years, and they couldn't let it slip away.

Of course, if this plan failed, it would mean they would lead Wilcox straight to Aether…

"Hey, buddy," said Alec, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "If I know you, you probably dreamed about everything that could go wrong from here on, and now you've probably been up for a while worrying about every step of our next plan?"

"You're dead on," laughed Albus.

"Well, don't worry about it," said Alec, pulling a granola bar from his bag. "We're going to nail this one. We've nailed everything so far. I know we shouldn't get cocky, but we should definitely be willing to ride our luck as far as we can. It's like we're on some serious Felix Felicis here—total success destroying the first Shadow's Engine and getting to the moon, total success wiping out the Sandbloods by accident, total success destroying the next two Shadow's Engines, total success stopping Werora and ending Duopold, total success capturing Mara and finding the location of Aether. Has anything actually gone wrong for us lately?!"

"We lost Aidan," said Albus quietly.

Alec grimaced through a mouthful of granola. "But everything else has worked out. I think our luck is going to continue and we're going to find him again! And we'll get Aether and stop Wilcox and it'll all be over and good. You know what I think? I think some higher power is literally watching over us. Somebody has their sights on us, throwing down blessing after blessing. Maybe not some god sitting on a cloud, but…"

As he spoke, a billowing cloud of some sort rushed into view behind Alec. It raced directly into him, but without noticeable impact, and it poured itself into his skin.

Albus blinked and hit his head, trying to determine whether what he'd just seen was real. It certainly seemed to be, but he had no idea what the hell it was.

Alec continued. "But maybe some Devoctrix user like Desulgon, like an IMW that we don't even know exists. I mean, how else can you explain all the crazy coincidences and the excellent timing we've had—"

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

Albus looked over Alec's shoulder, and Alec turned. Just beyond the protection of Albus's spellwork, someone stepped forward, light-footed on the moss so that they hadn't heard an approach. Two people on brooms followed her.

Alec gasped. It was Mia Moon—his long-time girlfriend from Hogwarts. She was flanked by none other than Teddy and Victoire.

Alec cast a significant look towards Albus, and Albus knew what he was on about. The timing was absolutely freakishly uncanny.

Teddy and Victoire also cast their Patronuses. A chameleon and a blue jay joined Mia's raven Patronus high in the air, lighting up the underside of the dark forest's canopy. Teddy also was morphing continuously between dozens of different people using his Metamorphmagus abilities.

"Alec?" called Mia. "Alec? Albus? Teddy and Victoire and I are here. It's really us—look at our Patronuses and Teddy's shape-shifting. We can't fake that. You and I first kissed by accident when you fell on my face, to answer our security question. We know you're here—it's a long story but we used a super-accurate methodology to find you. I risked coming out into the open because we have some really important information. Can you lift your enchantments and let us in before someone tracks me down?"

Alec glanced at Albus, and then he sent his orca whale Patronus out to the edge of their safeguards. Though it seemed like the small party had provided enough evidence to prove that they were who they said they were, the possibility of mind control or some extraordinarily advanced impersonation still terrified him. In fact, Mia seemed strangely emotionless. Alec's Patronus passed through the boundaries of their spells, and when the orca appeared in front of her, she looked directly at it but had no visible reaction.

Albus closed his eyes—Mia's aura seemed present, though not as vibrant as usual. Had something happened to her? Teddy's and Victoire's auras were there as well, and they seemed to be the same as usual. But because of the possibility of mind control, especially in Mia who seemed mentally altered in some way, he didn't dare let down their defenses.

"What was the nickname you called me once that I made you swear never to call me again?" asked Alec's Patronus, since Mia wouldn't be able to hear Alec's real voice from inside the spell zone.

"Mia Moon's moon," answered Mia, "because you basically orbited me for most of our first couple of years together until you started and then continued to take me for granted. My entire family is in hiding because of you, arse, so let us in. Or do we need to go over our third security question?"

Albus shook his head no, even though Alec wasn't looking at him. Even though it would be great for Alec to see his girlfriend after all this time… could he be sure it was safe to do so? Especially with her weird lack of expression for someone who was trying to reunite with her years-long lover.

"I'm sorry," apologized Alec's Patronus. "You have no idea how much I love you. But we have no current satisfactory way of proving that you're entirely yourselves."

"I understand," said Mia blankly. "Teddy, I guess you can give him the news just by saying it aloud. Want to set up protection here? We can indirectly communicate with each other via Patronuses."

Teddy and Victoire began casting defensive spells; soon their group disappeared from sight and sound entirely. What followed was one of the strangest conversations Albus had ever had: Since neither of them could see or hear each other, they simply sent Patronuses out and talked out into the open air.

Teddy's chameleon Patronus came out first. "I have some good news and bad news," it said aloud. "First off… the good news. Aidan is alive and well. He and I were together just yesterday, looking for Desulgon. The bad news is that when we found Desulgon, he was killed. By the servant of Herpo the Foul."

"That was the murder he was talking about," said Alec to Albus, and though it meant Aidan was alive, the blow that Desulgon was dead was nearly as excruciating to think about. Albus tried to keep up the slight hope that it was some sort of a trick by their mind-controlled loved ones, to discourage them from the search for Desulgon, but he knew deep down that they weren't compromised and that what they were saying was true. And it was an incredibly painful truth.

"We developed a very accurate method to track people to their current locations, which is how we found Desulgon and then you," said Teddy's chameleon in his voice. "It's also why Mia is acting a little weird, so our apologies for that lack of warmth in the reunion. After failing to get Desulgon, we got separated from Aidan, so I'm really sorry but we don't know where he is. We instead went to Mia—I helped with her relocation, so I knew her new location, and we used her to find you to deliver that message."

Alec sent his Patronus out next. "So you don't have any idea where Aidan is now?"

"No, unfortunately," said Teddy's Patronus. "But we do know he's alive. Or he was yesterday, but he's a resourceful kid and I know he got to safety after that catastrophically failed rescue attempt on Desulgon."

Albus felt more rage boil over at Herpo's servant. Emotions aside, though, he did know it would be the right thing to do, to follow Alec's plan: With the risks came the benefit of removing Herpo and his servant from the equation. Wilcox would be sure to leave neither of them alive.

Mia's Patronus sailed out next. "Alec, honey," said the raven. "I'm so sorry about my arrival! My emotions were dulled by a spell as part of the tracking process and it only just wore off. I really am overwhelmingly happy to find you safe, even if I can't see you. We'll be back together soon. Kick some butt for me, okay? If you're going to be away from me this long, you'd better get some results."

"I will," replied Alec's Patronus.

"I want you to know our other plans," said Teddy's Patronus. "But I also don't want anyone else to overhear any of it. So I'm going to send a paper airplane out—just use a Summoning Charm on it."

Out of thin air, a paper airplane sailed into view. Alec was faster with a silent Summoning Charm, but once it was within the boundaries of their protection, Albus flicked off the Summon with _Finite Incantatem_.

"We shouldn't touch it," said Albus. "We're still not one thousand percent sure they're not impersonators or mind-controlled."

"Come on, Albus," said Alec. "They've been proving themselves since they got here. I mean, if we're unsure about _them,_ where does our uncertainty _stop?_ Do we have to test each other every time we look away from each other for more than five seconds in case a spider-bat shat some MM in our mouths or something?"

Alec Summoned the paper to his hand and caught it directly, and started reading.

Then, he shouted out in pain and dropped the letter, clutching his hand and dropping to the floor.

"ALEC!"

Alec stood up, laughing. "I'm teasing you," he chuckled. "I'm fine."

"You won't be fine if you pull something like that again," grumbled Albus, sinking to the ground and lying on his back as Alec read the letter aloud.

"_Albus, Alec—I've got a few plans, but they're not complete. Firstly, as I am still doing well impersonating one of Wilcox's high-ranking minions, I have access to a lot of the Ministry and a lot of his secret bases. In one of these bases, he is keeping Lucy as a prisoner to make sure none of the Potters or Weasleys say anything. If I can get in there, I may be able to get her out of harm's way so he can't use her as a hostage for anything else. But her containment is extremely magically powerful and there are many guards. I can't do it by myself and can't trust anyone with the job. So I have a plan, and it involves that Devoctrix knife of yours, the Bloodblade that Swait made. I need to know whether you still have it—if you don't, I'm not going to take the risk I'm about to describe. But if you do still have the knife, I am going to swipe the recharging device that Wilcox stole from Swait. The knife doesn't give you enhanced magic anymore because you can't recharge it, but Wilcox has the device you can use to give it back its power. If I can steal that and deliver it to you, you can recharge the knife. You can keep the Bloodblade, of course, but if you could give me a quick slice, I would be able to rescue Lucy with the enhanced magic granted to me by the Devoctrix's power, and you would also have the recharger for the knife for whenever you and Alec wanted to use it for yourselves. If that sounds like a good plan to you, send up a green spark. If you don't have the knife, send up a red spark. I'll take green sparks to mean I should go snatch the Bloodblade recharger as soon as possible and find you again when I do._

"_But if I do this and rescue Lucy, I'll have to give up my double agent status. Only members of Wilcox's handpicked personal guard have access to Lucy's containment or the stronghold where the Bloodblade is being kept, so they would check every member of the guard to see if they had a slice from the Bloodblade, and I would be a fool to stick around for it. That means this would be the last mission I could carry out as a double agent in Wilcox's army. If there's anything else you want me to do in the meantime, send no sparks, and just send me a letter in response._

"_And anything else in the meantime, send me a letter now. Victoire and I can do anything you need us to do. We're here for you; you're not alone. Sorry that we couldn't locate Aidan again after we were separated. But if we run across him, we'll deliver him back to you. As long as we have Mia with us, and as long as you and Alec stick together, we can find you anywhere—though it may take a long time with our current method if we start our search too far away from you._"

"We should tell him to use his status as a Wilcox minion to be the one to orchestrate the fake 'chance encounter' with us," said Albus, when Alec had paused long enough to indicate that he had finished reading what Teddy had written.

"I was thinking the same thing," said Alec. "Tell him to find a place where we can set it up. We'll Apparate in, pretend we just changed locations. We'll set off an alert that Teddy and some others can respond to. Then we can start talking aloud and Teddy can make sure the other minions refrain from attacking us in order to listen to us longer. We'll say the fake information and they'll hear our 'plans' directly from our ears."

Albus sent out his own Patronus, the last to join in. His coyote bounded out to the four that were already hovering outside the protected areas, and spoke. "Teddy, we like your plan—we have one request for you first!"

"Of course," said Teddy. "Write it on the back of my letter and send it over!"

"Will do. Give us a moment."

Albus turned over the letter, found a decent-sized stone nearby, and took out a quill. He laid out the letter on the stone and began scribbling a detailed outline of their next plan and Teddy's role in it. He hoped Teddy wouldn't try to talk them out of it—it was risky, but he hoped his outline of all the huge benefits of this plan would be enough to convince him. Unfortunately, he couldn't describe the exact nature of the situation, and instead chose to refer to Aether as a "weapon" that Herpo possessed that they could make great use of, and which he could not further discuss the nature of in a letter. Alec bent down to watch him write.

"Hey," asked Alec's Patronus. "Just a quick question in the meanwhile, because we actually have no idea. Where are we, geographically?"

"You're in Ireland," answered Victoire's Patronus, which was still floating next to the others. "Which is actually really convenient, because we only had to fly a short distance once we found Mia. We were really surprised how fast we found you."

"Another crazy coincidence," said Alec to Albus. "Need any more evidence?"

"Yes, considerably," said Albus. "We are crucial individuals fighting a crucial war. We kind of need more than 'good feelings' to justify any potentially insane actions."

"Speaking of insane, how's the Contagion since that outburst in the submarine?"

"Fine," snapped Albus, unhappy to be reminded of what happened to an innocent bystander inside that submarine when he couldn't properly control the Contagion.

He instantly regretted the small outburst and sighed. "Sorry. We'll talk. Just let me finish this letter first."

"Will do," said Alec, keeping an eye on him.

Alana landed next to Albus and hummed a small tune in his ear. Any darkness that might have been crawling up on his heart immediately receded, and he smiled at the phoenix to express his gratitude. Alana nodded back at him.

He finished the letter, folded it back into the airplane along the creases, and sent it back out. It was Summoned into the protected area of Teddy's company's spellwork, and all traces of it vanished once it passed their barriers.

"I… can't say I'm overly thrilled about the methodology, but you seem to have made a strong case that this is the best way to get done what we need to do," said Teddy's Patronus. "We'll help you out with this. Just exercise all possible caution, as I'm sure you already know. Let me send you another response."

Soon enough, another letter drifted their way, and Albus summoned it. He caught it and opened it up, reading it out loud to Alec.

"_As for the location of where this plan is to take place—why not somewhere in this forest? We're some miles outside Ireland's national Quidditch pitch. If you move to somewhere within a mile, it would be a wholly natural place that one might expect you to Apparate if you needed a landing spot—a place where you've visited before so that you had a clear mental image of where you're teleporting, but not a place you visit often enough for you to think Wilcox to suspect you'd go there—but it's a part of the network of places we've enchanted to detect magical activity, so we'd detect you and I could come and confirm it's you and call for backup. Make sure your act is convincing, and I'll head the mission and make sure nobody advances on you so that you disappear safely and when you want to. I may take some flak for that order once we lose you, but the information you'll 'give us' should be enough to satiate them, and they wouldn't immediately suspect I'm playing for the other team either way—I've done too much for them. So in the morning, at about 10:00, maybe, you should Apparate to a spot within a mile of the stadium, start to pretend you're unpacking your stuff for a lengthy stay, then start talking and wait for my signal. I'll get a bird to chirp the beginning three notes of Celestina Warbeck's 'Can't Charm You into Loving Me' to signify when we start listening: that's when you start getting into the good stuff that you want Wilcox's people to overhear._ _If this sounds good to you, tell us when you finish reading._"

"It sounds good," said Albus's Patronus in reply. "Are we all set for this plan, then?"

"I think we are," said Teddy's Patronus. "I'll see you where we discussed. Best of luck to you. But use enough skill that you don't have to rely on the luck."

Albus shot Alec a smirk.

"I'm going to take Mia and Victoire to safety," said Teddy. "I'll see you soon."

"Hopefully we won't see you," said Alec. "No offense."

"None taken," said Teddy. "If you see me it means something's gone wrong."

Teddy, Victoire, and Mia removed their protective spells, and then mounted their brooms again and took off.

"I imagine he's done even more for us than we could ever know and appreciate, actually," said Albus, watching Teddy's brooms vanish past the treetops. "He's infiltrated Wilcox's ranks… And it sounds like he's in charge of checking up on magical disturbances in the areas Wilcox has set up surveillance, so that if we make a disturbance, he can be the first to look in and can lie to everyone else that it was a false alarm. He may have even saved our arses several times already without us knowing."

"Wouldn't he have bragged about that if he had, though?"

"_You_ might have bragged if it had been you doing it," laughed Albus, "but Teddy isn't one for personal glory."

"I'm not positive as to whether or not I should be offended," said Alec, wrinkling his nose. "But hey! If I was only worried about myself, I would totally be under a rock right now and not planning on blabbing about our plans in person in front of a bunch of Wilcox's covert operatives. That's not a personal glory sort of deal, that's a personal tombstone sort of deal."

"Hopefully not."

"And hey," said Alec. "Can we talk about the little outburst you had?"

Albus groaned in exasperation. "_Why?_"

"I don't know," said Alec. "But if Aidan was here, I think he'd be worried about you, and I guess that job has fallen to me now. So, are you still, er, not insane and all?"

"Yes," said Albus.

"Oh." Alec shrugged. "Okay, good."

Albus looked over. "Is that it?"

"Er, yeah?"

Albus laughed. "When we reconnect with Aidan, you're keeping that job. I like your version of checking up on me a lot better."

The sun had been starting to brighten one edge of the sky. Alec looked around. "I think the Irish Quidditch pitch has the forest to the _north,_" said Alec, "so that means it would be _south_ of us, and if the sun is coming up _behind_ us, then that means the Quidditch pitch is…" He turned around several times to try to orient himself, and then had to stop himself from falling over from dizziness. "That means the Quidditch pitch is… in… some direction from here… and that direction is… somewhere."

"I got this," said Albus, and he mounted his broom. He lifted himself up into the air, past the treetops, and looked around. He flew higher, until he could see miles away in the distance.

The Irish Quidditch pitch loomed about ten miles away, to the right of the sunrise. South. Not that it particularly mattered—they would be Apparating. He remembered his family taking a Portkey to the forest around there for a Quidditch playoff match, and he sharpened the memory as best as he could for their coming Apparition.

"What time is it?" he asked Alec when he descended.

Alec checked his watch. "Half past eight."

"An hour and a half to go before our plan takes effect." Albus sighed. "What do you want to do? Practice what we're going to say while we're getting eavesdropped on?"

"Fancy a game of chess?"

Albus smiled. "Why not? But after that, we practice."

"We can practice during the game," said Alec. "Once a game has gone more than a few turns, you take forever to move anyway."

"And you play knee-jerk reaction moves to everything and get steamrolled," said Albus, pulling out the chessboard.

Alec played knee-jerk reaction moves to everything and got steamrolled.

O

Lucy Weasley awoke to the faint sound of footsteps, headed in her direction.

Her stomach recoiled; whatever they were feeding her was keeping her weak so that she couldn't escape, but she had to keep eating or she would die.

Lyle Grody, the dashing but slimy-souled snake who was assigned to watch over her, was approaching with the food tray. She was simultaneously starving and ready to throw up whatever she was fed. She hugged her knees close to her sunken chest, rattling the chains that were around her ankles and wrists.

"Hello, little hostage," said Grody. "Here's your meal."

He slid the tray through the tiny slot under the door to her prison cell. He waved his wand, and the tray slid towards where she was chained to the wall.

Lucy clutched her stomach as it entered a tantrum at the thought of once again digesting whatever this was. But it was her only food source. She reached grudgingly for the tray, where a gray sludge awaited her.

She looked up. Grody was still standing there.

"What do you want," she mumbled weakly.

"Same thing _you_ wanted the day we met," said Grody, a wide shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face.

Lucy screwed her face up in disgust.

"Come on, girl, don't be like that," said Grody. "I've been bringing you food for the past five months. Yeah, did you know it's been that long? We're coming up on our half-year anniversary. Shouldn't that Stockholm Syndrome thing have kicked in by now? I thought victims were supposed to fall in love with their captors."

"You want me to fall in _love_ with you?!" sputtered Lucy.

"No, I just want to bang you," replied Grody calmly. "You've been withering away here, but I think your emaciated, desperate look is actually even more endearing than the makeup you plastered on that sexy Muggle girl disguise. Bondage and physical abuse… that's hot."

"I've already been abused enough here," said Lucy, shaking at the prospect. "Please… please don't…"

"Oh, I'm not going to rape you," said Grody. "That would be wrong. I respect the laws of consent. See, I'm a good guy! Don't you want to do me?"

Lucy turned her head away.

"Come on. You're a nymphomaniac and you've been sexless for six months. I'm hot, you're hot, you're my prisoner, it's going to happen eventually. Better to let it happen sooner. You'll enjoy yourself! Could be the only fun you'll get in here. Why wait any longer?"

Lucy snorted. "You think I want to do anything with the guy who brings me gray slime to eat that smells as rotten as he is on the inside?"

Grody paced back and forth. "Well… if the gray slime isn't doing it for you, I could perhaps arrange to bring something less disgusting. They're doing the gray stuff to keep you weak, but… you're not getting out of here no matter what level of strength you're at, right? So what harm could it do? What do you like? Steak, lobster? Both?" He smiled another toe-curling smile. "Say anything you want, sugar. I'll even bring champagne for our first time."

"You're not getting anything from me just for finally starting to treat me like a human," snapped Lucy.

But knowing she might be able to use this to her advantage, she made a point to turn to face him again and subtly look him up and down. She took a deep breath. "Bring me real food and maybe we can start talking."

Grody laughed a grimy laugh. "See you tomorrow with steak and lobster, sugar. Think about it. Think about me as much as you want."

He walked away, humming to himself.

O

Albus and Alec Apparated into a small clearing. They looked around for a moment; seeing no one, they lay their bags down on the dirt. Alec began stretching, and Albus opened his bag.

"So," said Alec. "Where are we now?"

"We're in the forest outside of Ireland's Quidditch stadium," said Albus. "I came here with my parents once to see a playoff match. Ireland played Italy."

"Who won?"

"Ireland did," said Albus, looking away from his bag, purposefully procrastinating from the unpacking—he might have to leave behind anything he took out, since there wouldn't be time to gather it back up again when they were preparing to Disapparate at a moment's notice, and without it being noticed that they were preparing to Disapparate.

"Yeah, Ireland has dominated the entire century so far, I guess starting with that World Cup victory in '94."

"They were heavily favored in the game I saw, but it was no given. They were pressured hard to start. Italy played with so much energy that they went up by two hundred and ninety points. But the problem was that they couldn't sustain it. The Irish Seeker successfully staved off the Italian Seeker from catching the Snitch, long enough for the Italian Chasers to get tired out from the effort of sustaining that absurd level of play they came out with, but the Irish were tougher. The Irish finally tacked on enough points for their Seeker to catch the Snitch and win."

He was blowing time until the bird sang—they couldn't get into the meat of the conversation until then, since they had to get every detail overheard. But it made him long for those simpler times when these were the sorts of things he'd talk about with his friends.

"Guess it goes to show you," said Alec. "The one that comes out strong in the beginning doesn't always win."

They waited for a moment, and Albus rustled through his bag.

Then they heard, quite clearly, the signal—the first three notes of Celestina Warbeck's classic "Can't Charm You into Loving Me." _Doot, deet, daaa…_

"Did we have to move so soon?" asked Alec—the beginning of their planned conversation.

"We're at a really serious juncture here," said Albus. "We have to limit risks as much as possible. Relocating often is one of the ways to do that. If we get caught now—_now,_ so close to the end… All we need to do is beat Herpo the Foul in a duel, and we'll have everything we need."

"And that's all we need to do?" asked Alec, continuing their script perfectly. "We just need to beat Herpo in a duel, and just like that we'll have control of the Wind Sprite? Aether?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "It's like winning a wand. He is the master of Aether. If we beat him in a duel, we are the new masters. And Aether is just one piece of the puzzle that will form Pyron—the only force left in the world that's powerful enough to take down the Man in the Shadows. If we connect all three Natural Sprites, we'll have all of Pyron's power in our hands."

"Cool," said Alec. "But when we go look for Mara, let's remember not to try and take the Liner. Didn't go so well last time when they noticed us, and that was only just taking a short trip."

Albus and Alec were hoping that this false narrative would throw Wilcox off the scent of the real reason they were on the Liner. Albus tried very hard to play it cool, like he had no reason to be worried, but he knew that Wilcox's forces had probably surrounded them by now. Teddy was holding them back so that they could eavesdrop on the boys, but if one of them decided to go rogue so he could be the hero who brought them in…

He started to sweat, even though it was cold, and he hoped it wouldn't give it away that they knew Wilcox's forces were there; they were so close to the end. All that was left was to pretend to reach into his bag for something, but actually grab the tail of the phoenix that was inside the bag. Then, when Alec put his hand on Albus's shoulder, he would pretend to suddenly notice the Sneakoscope, and they would use the phoenix to Disapparate without being tracked. After that, they only had to lie in wait for Wilcox to take the bait of their conversation.

"But," continued Alec with his last line, "remind me how you know for _sure_ that dueling Herpo is how we get control of the Natural Sprite?"

"It's all in that book Desulgon gave me," said Albus, reaching for his bag, preparing to shout "The Sneakoscope!" and vanish.

But his bag flew off into the distance—abruptly Summoned.

Inside the bag, Alana delivered a hell-freezing cry. Undeterred, one Wilcox supporter leapt out from behind a tree. Was it Teddy, trying to get to them first? They couldn't tell—he would be in perfect disguise.

Alec grabbed Albus's wrist; while there was almost undoubtedly an Anti-Disapparition Jinx already in play, he was wearing HERMAN as sneakers, and they could teleport that way if necessary. Alana knew to bring their bag and meet them at the base of Mount Solaeris as a back-up plan.

Right as Alec reached down to grab the shoelaces to activate HERMAN, a spell heaved the ground up under their feet, ripping Alec's grip off of Albus's shoulders. Albus's heart plummeted as he imagined Alec leaving without him like they'd lost Aidan. But Alec stopped himself from teleporting when he lost physical contact with Albus.

And then, forty green jets blasted out from far over their heads simultaneously, exploding on impact with the ground at the edges of the clearing, in all of the places a person could have been hiding. Forty hooded fighters dropped from the treetops, dueling with intensity and precision. Wilcox's minions stepped from the shadows to fight the newcomers, but they were completely outmatched; most of them fled on foot, and those who didn't were struck down, and struck down hard. Albus and Alec could only watch with their jaws comically agape.

The last Stunning Spell flew, and the last of Wilcox's force crumpled to the ground in a tangled heap. The hooded fighters turned to face Albus, and bowed to him, their hoods concealing their faces.

Not one of them was holding a visible wand.

_Did Teddy send warriors to make sure we were safe or something?_ Albus wondered to Alec. He looked over to Alec, but Alec looked less confused about it; rather, he looked offended that all of them were bowing towards Albus and none of them to him.

"Th-thank you," stuttered Albus. "Thank you. I can't say it enough. What… Who are you?"

"We are tasked with keeping you safe," said a low voice from behind him.

Albus turned. One robe was slightly more ornate than the others; he took this to be the leader of the group.

"At all costs," added the leader. "Including those to the world, and to yourself."

Albus frowned. "What exactly does that—"

A silent Stunning Spell hit him in the back, and he hit the dirt.


	17. The Propheteers

_**The series is complete.**_

_**Daily uploads (or perhaps even multiple daily) until the end. Which will be good because everything is a cliffhanger and I apologize for that.**_

_**Happy reading.**_

* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE PROPHETEERS

O

Albus opened his eyes. He was on a king-sized bed with neatly folded sheets, in a well-lit room with stone walls. He was still in his robes, but his pockets were all empty. He turned his head to see a well-sized, impressively neat-looking bathroom past an open door. Turning the other way, he saw a small but apparently fully stocked kitchen past a marble half-wall. In this room was a large fluffy couch, a computer on a nice desk, and an enormous television set. It looked like he was in a five-star hotel.

Which would have been great, if he was in a five-star hotel on purpose.

He didn't dare make a sound, but as if they already knew he had awakened, a door opened. A young Asian boy with a clean-shaven head walked in. His face was covered with tattoos—no, they weren't tattoos. As he approached, he could see that they were scars.

"Master Potter," he said in a voice that indicated he was probably prepubescent. What were they doing to this kid? Experimenting on him?

What were they planning to do with _Albus?_

"Who are you people?" demanded Albus, now remembering the circumstances under which he was here. "Where am I? What do you want?!"

"One question at a time, please, and I swear by the Great Plan that I shall answer them honestly," he said, in the prim if high-pitched voice of an aristocrat. "I have been instructed to deliver full honesty to you at all times. In the meantime, if you would like something to eat, there are a multitude of ingredients provided to you in the kitchenette with which you may cook, or should you wish you may order any kind of food you like from room service."

_Room service? Is this actually a hotel?_

"I am also instructed to cater to any of your needs," said the bald boy. "You should not think of yourself as a prisoner here. You should feel honored. Your presence here indicates that you are of the absolute utmost importance in the Great Plan. Will you be needing anything, or would you like to ask me some questions before you get settled in here?"

"I'm not getting _settled in here,_" seethed Albus, and his curled fists burned with energy; fireballs of wandless magic encased his hands, and the edges of the bed caught fire from the proximity.

"Please depart the compromised sleeping area," chirped the boy. He moved towards Albus, and Albus scrambled off of the bed, jumped behind the marble half-wall in the kitchen and took up a defensive position there.

The boy approached the bed. He waved his hands over the bed. First, the flames fizzled out. Then the bedsheets rippled like a breeze was blowing over them, and the crisped fabric restored itself. Then the sheets folded themselves neatly again, as they were when he'd awoken upon them.

Albus looked up. This boy, barely old enough to be at Hogwarts, was doing that with _wandless magic?_ Was this really an adult in disguise, looking like a child to make themselves more approachable? But why choose such a weird-looking kid? Why one with no hair on his head, and scars all over his face?

"How did you do that?" he asked softly.

"We are trained from a young age when we are chosen," said the boy. "We all have wand core materials, such as dragon heartstring and basilisk scales, surgically implanted in our bones."

Albus threw a hand over his mouth—that was revolting.

"It is a procedure that results in death in nearly every instance," said the boy. "But of the less than one percent who survive it, it gives great benefit that is worth the sacrifice, as is the way of the Great Plan. Would you like me to continue?"

"I… honestly don't know whether I actually want you to keep talking about something like that," said Albus. He cringed. "So you've never used a wand?"

"A wand provides a target. A target provides weakness. A wand also provides a dependency. A dependency also provides weakness. There are to be no weaknesses in the agents of the Great Plan—"

"What the bloody hell is this Great Plan you keep going on about?" growled Albus. "And who the hell are you people, anyway?!"

"We understand that you are upset," said the boy. "It is our trust that you will come to understand us. My name is Chig. I am currently serving you as a representative to a group known amongst ourselves, when dealing in English, as the _Propheteers._ We are agents of the Great Plan—the inevitable, inescapable destiny of all the machinations of the known universe."

Albus looked around the room. There was only one well-fortified door. There were no windows, or vent on the ceiling, or anything he could use as a target in an escape plan. To be fair, of course, Chig had used the word "inescapable".

"Where's Alec?"

"Your friend is alive and well, so to settle your worried mind. He is still unconscious, but when he wakes, you may visit him. He is here with us as well."

"And where is 'here'?" he asked, as long as Chig was answering.

"You are somewhere no one will find you," said Chig, "where you will be safe until we release you."

"You'll release me. Unharmed?"

"Of course. You are never to be harmed at all. You are crucial in the Great Plan."

"Okay," said Albus. "When?"

"Soon. But we cannot say when, because we do not know for certain. It will all be revealed in time, to you and to us."

"So, where am I right now?"

"You are somewhere no one will find you," repeated Chig. "Where you will be safe. Until we release you."

Albus thought for a moment. "You said you'd be honest," he said. "What country am I in? What city am I nearest?"

"I said I would be honest," said Chig, "but I never said I would be thorough."

Albus sighed, but he relaxed. It didn't look like he was in any immediate danger… Unless, of course, this was all a ruse. A very weird, unnecessarily complicated ruse involving leaving him unrestrained and making him as comfortable as possible.

"What are all those scars on your face?" he decided to ask, dreading the answer.

It was exactly as horrible as he expected. "My face has been surgically altered to exactly resemble the face of every other Propheteer. It fosters our proper hive mentality."

"It fosters nausea in everyone else," replied Albus.

"Are you feeling ill? There are potions and medicines in the bathroom cabinet."

"Tell me about the Propheteers."

"We are a global society dedicated to preserving the proper course of destiny," said Chig. "We watch over prophecies and ensure that all prophecies come to fruition properly."

"Why would you care so much about that?"

"Every time a prophecy of the human race is defied," explained Chig, "it leads the human race closer to its destruction."

Though Albus still had his doubts about this group, Chig's words were said with such confidence and so ominously that he felt chills brush down his spine.

Chig continued. "The future of humanity can only exist if there are humans in the future. By necessarily depicting a future involving humanity, prophecies are thus painting a path forward in which humans maintain continued existence." He seemed to have learned this speech by heart. "Prophecies are not individual events. They are part of a unit, a greater totality. They are stepping stones, landmarks, checkpoints to pass on our eternal path forward. When we deviate from that path, we tempt all manner of unforeseen disaster to befall us, and risk derailing us from the path entirely—derailing us from our continuing existence. It has been hundreds of years since we last failed to protect a prophecy in danger of failing." Chig smiled. "So, given that you have an immutable role to play in multiple prophecies of events to come, you can see why it is so crucial in the Great Plan that we keep you out of harm's way for now."

"If I'm so goddamn crucial to the plan," growled Albus, "why are you keeping me here doing nothing?!"

"Because it is prophesied that should you involve yourself in the events to come now regarding Pyron, you will die."

Albus narrowed his gaze. "What?"

"Let me repeat for you," said Chig, "a prophecy you have already heard."

Albus vaguely recalled what was about to be spoken: the prophecy on which he'd eavesdropped in the hospital by Uncle Ron's bedside.

"_Where shadows cross, the darkness grows. The power of the sun shall burn away the shadows. The hostage, coveted by both, shall be the downfall of both. The third shall seek the third, and three shall fall. When the sun rises on the night of the clashing shadows, both shall burn away. When the sun sets on the burning day, the fire shall flicker out. And as the final shadow is banished, so its banishing light shall leave this world as well._"

Albus shook his head. "No. That last sentence wasn't a part of it. You already said you know I've heard it before, and that last sentence—"

"That last sentence," interrupted Chig, "was purposefully omitted when they relayed the prophecy to your father. They knew that the prophecy was about you. And they did not yet want to tell your father that it indicated your demise." Chig pointed to Albus. "The third shall seek the third, and three shall fall. You are the third child of Harry Potter, preceded by James and Eftan. The hostage, of course, is Aether, the Sprite of Air. The third Sprite. You are the third son, seeking the third Sprite. And three shall fall: you, Helio Wilcox, and Herpo the Foul. The hostage, coveted by both… shall be the downfall of both. Should you seek to reunite Pyron, it would destroy Helio Wilcox, but it would also destroy you. You both covet the hostage, and though you might reunite Pyron, it would destroy you as well." He cleared his throat. "When the sun rises on the night of clashing shadows, both shall burn away. Helio Wilcox and Herpo the Foul are the clashing shadows, and they would both burn away—they would both be destroyed by the power of Pyron. But when the sun sets on the burning day, the fire shall flicker out. Pyron's power will flicker out. But it will also consume and destroy you. When you banish the last of your enemies… you will leave this world with them."

"How do you know all of this?" asked Albus, shaking his head.

"A council of elders, those who have served for centuries but are no longer in fighting form, make judgments about what they believe the language of the prophecies decree," said Chig. "Using all available information—which is a lot—they have determined that the action of reuniting Pyron would certainly bring about the destruction of your enemies, but it would also bring about your end, at the very same time that you destroy your enemies."

"But what if—"

"This is not debatable," said Chig. "The council has not been wrong in any lifetime of anyone alive."

"It was once," argued Albus. "I witnessed a prophecy failing."

"No," said Chig.

"I remember it," insisted Albus. "There was a prophecy—about Dismiusa. It said that an evil was brewing under the castle, and a son of Harry Potter would destroy it, but in order to do that, he would have to give his life. We destroyed Dismiusa, but I had Wilcox deal the final blow instead of one of us, so we all—lived…"

He didn't like the look that Chig was giving him. Chig was slowly shaking his head.

"You never heard the full text of the prophecy," said Chig. "You made many incorrect assumptions that we have anticipated since before you made them. Dismiusa was not the evil named in the prophecy. It can be debated whether she was evil at all. No, the evil in question brewing inside Hogwarts—inside, not under—was Helio Wilcox. That prophecy was the first to outline the general progression of events regarding Wilcox. The Clashing Shadows/Burning Day prophecy just outlined more of the specifics. Namely: _which_ son of Harry Potter would die, and how."

Albus blanched.

"And indeed, a son of Harry Potter will need to give his life to defeat this evil," said Chig. "You will. When you reunite Pyron. You will destroy Wilcox and Herpo the Foul—and yourself. But it will not happen now. You have other prophecies to fulfill, and if you die now fulfilling this one, you will not be able to fulfill the others." Chig smiled. "Currently, our agents are preparing to apprehend Herpo the Foul and his hostage, and bring him here to another holding cell. Wilcox will touch neither of you until you have fulfilled all of the other prophecies that you must fulfill. And then, once you have fulfilled them, we will initiate the clash between the shadows—Wilcox and Herpo. And we will bring you Herpo's hostage. You will reunite Pyron, and destroy Wilcox and Herpo as they fight. But only after you fulfill your other destinies—your shared obligation to maintain the course of fate."

"But how long will that take?"

"Years, possibly," said Chig. "We don't know. When the opportunities arise for you to fulfill your other prophecies, we will allow you to do so."

"What other prophecies are there about me?"

"Unfortunately," said Chig, "we cannot reveal their full natures to you now. We intervene in the proper execution of fate only when wholly and absolutely necessary in order to protect it."

"So you don't know how long it will take," said Albus, shaking with anger. "You're postponing the Burning Day so that I can run some other errands for you."

"Not for the Propheteers," said Chig. "Not for us. For the correct alignment of fate. For the Great Plan."

"But then you're letting Wilcox run free until that happens?!" roared Albus. "You're letting him do whatever he wants unchecked—taking over the planet, killing billions of innocent people?! I don't care if I die in the fight! But you're going to stop me from trying to prevent Wilcox killing off most of the planet? You're going to reschedule Wilcox's downfall for a later date so that you can sit here stroking your dicks and fantasizing that you're saving the human race while you let it die?!"

"It is a difficult concept to comprehend, but following this course is what has to be done for the good of civilization as a whole," said Chig. "Any desultory deviations, straying from the path of the prophecies, would bring the human race closer to absolute annihilation."

"_Wilcox_ is bringing the human race closer to absolute annihilation!" barked Albus. "And who's really deviating here?! _I'm_ not the one deviating—_you're_ the ones who stormed down there and abducted me and deviated everything that was supposed to happen if you'd just let it!"

"You are one man with one ever-changing plan," said Chig. "We have had exactly the same ideals and actions for as long as magic has existed. We have always stepped in to correct the course of fate every time it became necessary and only as much as was necessary. But if we were to let you go, it would be subverting the strict purpose of every one of our uncountably many careful machinations. Casting aside the well-laid, eon-long construction of my people's entire way of life. Which of us is more deviant, I would ask you?"

Albus kept his mouth shut, silently fuming.

"But it matters not anyway," said Chig. "All that matters is that all of our destinies are accounted for. Yes, Wilcox will run free for as long as it takes, and many people might die because of it. And that is sad. But it is the path chosen for us by fate."

"Humans are the ones who _make_ fate happen!" yelled Albus. "There wouldn't _be_ fate if not for humans—we control what we do and in doing so, we control our fates!"

"I shouldn't have said 'chosen'," said Chig. "It is the path of fate that we must walk in order to avoid a worse fate. As I have said many times already, the alternative to all of this is risking the full extinction of our species."

"And what about the risks if your elders are wrong?! If they're wrong, you've let most of the world die because you refused to let other people act! Why not just let me down there and use your well-trained warriors to ensure that I survive, so I can still do your other prophecies?"

"Firstly, they are never wrong," said Chig, "and secondly, if you were to survive, it would be in conflict with the prophecy that says you would die, so you would take our fate closer to the path of our destruction. Thirdly, about the size of the risks involved in either path… last I checked, most of the world was less than all of the world. You would more readily risk the _entirety_ of humanity?"

"Yes!" blurted Albus, his emotions overcoming him; his eyes welled up with tears. "Yes! I would risk that! Do you know why? Because in the interests of not letting humankind go away, what you're preserving in its stead is not _humanity!_ If you reduce everything we do to a series of checkpoints—assigning people value based only on which stepping-stones they can land on—that's not humanity! Humanity is exploring new territory. Venturing fearlessly into the unknown! And stopping those who would threaten violence or enslavement upon our peaceful existence—upon our right to choose our own destinies! Not to fall in line with what others are telling them to do! Not to have to do or be anything we don't want! _That's_ humanity! And if we can't have that—we've already lost everything!"

He stood his ground, breathing heavily and staring Chig down.

Chig shook his head. "As I have said," he sighed, "we do hope that you will come to understand us soon enough. I am sorry, Master Potter, but your selfish wishes for the preservation of your loved ones do not speak for all of humanity. That is left to the elders: those who have spent their entire lives throwing off their individuality for the sake of the greater good. Goodbye for now, Master Potter. Alert us if you need anything."

He turned and walked out.

Before he closed the door, he looked back in. "Additionally," he said, "I would advise against trying to escape. I know how passionate you are about all of this, but be reminded that you are surrounded by highly skilled and highly trained individuals who will return you to your confines. We have left you with your magic for your comfort, but the more you abuse your comforts… the more we will limit them."

Chig snapped his fingers. Another young boy walked into view—he looked exactly like Chig, but slightly younger. He was holding a cage, and the cage was holding Gimmick—his pet cat that he hadn't seen since he fled Hogwarts.

"You have my _cat_ as a hostage?" asked Albus.

"This isn't a cat," said Chig. "This is a creature that is taking the form of your cat because it knows that you will perceive that form as non-threatening."

Albus blanched again—it was a mulunctapol. A creature that could drain one's magic and turn that person into a Muggle.

"Nothing in any prophecy necessitates you being a wizard," said Chig, as the other boy took the mulunctapol away again, "and the moment you make us regret leaving your magic inside you is the moment we account for that regret and amend our mistake. Remember that. Try to behave—but also try to enjoy yourself. Stress is unhealthy, and we need you."

"Then I'll kill myself," said Albus. "I'll kill myself if you don't let me out—and all of your prophecies will go to shit."

Chig smirked. "You can't. Though you believe your friends and family could die without you, you know that your death would be to _permanently_ abandon them. Not knowing whether your family is still alive, you won't take the risk of taking your life, in case you could still save them. You'll entertain delusions of escaping, or being rescued. You'll entertain those every single day, until we release you to fulfill the proper course of your destiny."

"You can't make me do anything," snarled Albus. "When you let me out of here I'm going to kill Wilcox first, and you can't make me do anything else before that happens."

"But we can," said Chig, reaching into his pocket and extracting a small vial of potion. He swirled it around as Albus's eye focused on it. "We keep the mulunctapoli here for another reason, of course." He shrugged. "Or, if you'd like, we can remove one of your friend's organs for every destiny you don't fulfill properly, if that motivates you enough."

He stepped out, and closed the door gently behind him.

"Enjoy your stay," called Chig from behind the door as he walked away.

Albus sank to the floor and grasped his hair in both hands as he heaved frantic breaths.

O

Lyle Grody entered the prison ward. Lucy didn't look up at all, but she smelled it instantly.

Steak and lobster.

"I make good on my word," said Grody. "You just tell me when you're ready, now. 'Course, I'll still have to restrain you even more than you already are when we get down and dirty—can't have you clawing my dick off or something—but getting tied up just makes it even better, wouldn't you say?"

The tray slid up next to her. A fork and knife, with small portions of real steak and lobster, as far as it appeared. Not very much, but it was definitely there. Small cups of melted butter were on the plate for the lobster, and a saltshaker filled with sea salt was there for the steak.

Lucy glanced in his direction, but not directly at him.

"Sorry it's not a bigger size of each," said Grody, "but I was advised against giving you too much real food. Apparently, eating a lot of food in a short time after you've been malnourished for a while can actually be fatal. So if you somehow escape, don't eat a whole lot of food in a short time, okay? I still want you bad, but not that bad. I'm not a necrophiliac. So don't die before I get a chance to enjoy you, okay?"

Lucy slowly reached for the steak, sliced a piece off and examined it.

"It's not poisoned," huffed Grody. "We still need you alive. Go on, try it!"

Lucy put the piece of steak in her mouth. The taste was unbelievable—like the most savory food she had ever consumed. It was what food in heaven might taste like. She immediately started cutting off another slice as her tortured stomach screamed for more.

"Try it with the sea salt," insisted Grody. "It's absurdly good. This was actually supposed to be Auchland's dinner, but I swiped some of it for you. See what I do in the name of love? Love in the sex sense, I mean, though."

Lucy swallowed her steak and swallowed her pride. "Thank you."

"Does that mean you'll let me inside you?"

Shaking her head, Lucy started in on the lobster. "I said that we could possibly start _talking_ once you started treating me like a human. So let's talk: Go to hell. Absolutely not."

Grody glared. "I could have done this earlier, you know," he said. "I could have brought you real food from the start if I'd wanted, to get you in the mood. But then you wouldn't have had the right motivation. Now that you've had our 'gray slime' for _six full months,_ you are well aware of exactly how awful I can make your life if you're going to be a bitch to me, and I would think you would be less willing to go straight back to it."

"But I lived through those six months," retorted Lucy, "and I can live through more. Why would a nice dinner talk me into having intercourse with the person who has still kept me in chains, forcing me to lie still, unable to stretch my muscles and feeling like my body is melting into nothing with my lack of exercise? At least let me move around my goddamned cell. And maybe I'll warm up to you a bit more."

"And how much do I have to do for you, until you agree?" sneered Grody. "Set up a radio? Give you the keys? Make you the new Man in the Shadows?"

"Make me _comfortable_ in my containment," said Lucy. "That would be an excellent start. I'm still miserable in here. This food is good, but I still get awful sleep on the stone floor, and the shackles are bruising me and I'm worried about my muscles atrophying. You obviously have the power to change that, and if you're not even going to do me that slight courtesy, why should I even consider you?"

"Or maybe," said Grody, "you could have sex with me, and every time you do I'll improve one of your living conditions."

"Why should I believe you'll follow through?"

"Because I'll want it again later."

Lucy shook her head. "I can't trust that, either. Not from the person who is the reason I've been living like I'm in hell for the past half year and who has only restricted my access to good food and sleep because he thinks he can use them as collateral for sex."

Grody curled his lip. "Fine," he said. "Gray slime tomorrow."

"Gladly," said Lucy coolly.

Grody flipped his wand, and upended the tray of steak and lobster. The fork and knife flew away, and the butter and sea salt spilled all over Lucy's clothing. He swiveled to the left on his left foot and strode away.

Lucy picked the steak up off the dusty floor, and with a tear trickling down her cheek, wiped it off and bit into it again, savoring it as much as possible before it was gone again.

She still had no idea what the endgame of this whole farce would look like. But she prayed that his will would break before hers did.

O

Albus was staring at the toaster in the kitchen provided to him by the Propheteers. It looked exactly like the one he had at his family's home.

"Waffles," he said to the toaster.

Two waffles disappeared from the package of frozen waffles he had taken out of the fridge. At exactly the same time, the toaster made a small _ding_ sound, and perfectly toasted waffles popped up.

The toaster's similarity to the one he had at home reminded him of his family, who were going to die under Wilcox's world takeover while he sat here, held captive by fanatic cultists. He grabbed the waffles out of the toaster and threw them against the wall. They bounced off harmlessly with the softest of sounds, a thoroughly unsatisfactory result as far as his rage was concerned. Instead, he picked up the entire toaster and threw it against the wall. It shattered spectacularly, but his rage made him want to smash everything else in the kitchen along with the toaster.

The toaster vanished, and then reappeared completely intact on the kitchen counter where it was before he picked it up.

The main door opened slightly. Albus looked over to see a bald Asian boy peer inside.

"Are you Chig?" asked Albus, peering. They all shared every one of the precise same features.

"I am," said the boy. "But that is not a helpful question. We are all called Chig. I am not the Chig to whom you spoke this morning."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Do you have a number, or something? Chig One and Chig Two, maybe? So I can tell you apart?"

"There is no need to tell us apart," said this Chig. "We are all the same. We do the same, want the same."

"Okay, I'm calling you Chig Two. What do you want from me?"

"In the long term, or the short term?" asked Chig Two. "In the long term, you have already been made aware of our plans. In the short term, you have a visitor."

Another younger Chig pushed Alec into the room. Alec shot the boys a middle finger, and then ran towards Albus and hugged him.

"Let us know when you need a return escort to your chambers, Alec," said Chig Three, and they exited.

Albus and Alec wordlessly stared at the door for a moment before Alec spoke.

"So," said Alec. "This is an unexpected fuck in the arse, isn't it."

"No kidding," huffed Albus. "They're trying to bring _Herpo_ here, too. I can only imagine him in one of these hotel rooms. That would be a sight."

Alec looked around the room. "They take your wand?"

"Yeah."

"Think you can cast anything wandlessly?"

"Yes, but they threatened me with a mulunctapol if I tried."

"Sure it wasn't just an illusion?"

Albus started to reply, but then thought for a moment before speaking. "Actually, no, I'm not sure. But it doesn't seem to be past them to do that."

Alec looked around. "Well, we can't stay here. Especially after we've told Wilcox that Herpo has Aether. If Wilcox gets his hands on Aether first… we're screwed. It would be really difficult to win Aether back from _Wilcox_ after that."

"At least he thinks he has to duel Herpo to get control of Aether," said Albus. "Hopefully. If he believes what his minions overheard from us."

"But once he duels Herpo and doesn't feel any different, he'll probably figure it out sooner rather than later."

"Maybe the cultists really will get Herpo first. Then we'd…" Albus sighed. "I'm gonna try something. Might go terribly."

"Literally everything we do these days has a possibility of turning out terrible," said Alec. "Lay it on me."

Albus walked to the kitchen. He opened up the refrigerator. Celery, carrots, kale… He pulled out any lengthy vegetable he could find.

"Er, your idea was a salad?" asked Alec. "I mean, I guess that's healthy, but how could that go terribly? E. coli?"

Albus measured up the vegetables with each other. He'd studied wandlore in his various A.R.M. classes at Hogwarts… Wandless magic might not be the most accurate option, but if he could create even a vaguely viable wand substitute out of his kitchen ingredients, they might have a chance. Flowering plants tended to be some of the best materials, but even stone and metal could channel magic.

He held up the celery. If he had to guess, this would be the best option for his intent. He turned to Alec with the celery and held it like a wand.

Alec laughed out loud. "Er… Albus?"

"_Tranousodia,_" said Albus.

The celery sparked; half of the stalk blew off and a gust of hot wind slapped Albus across the face.

_Did it work?_ he thought to Albus.

_Holy SHIT, dude!_ thought Alec back. _You just cast the Connectivity Charm with a freaking stalk of celery! Can you get us out of here if you have enough celery?!_

_No. Your thoughts are really fuzzy and indistinct. Hold on a moment…_

"Shoot," he said aloud, in case anyone was listening. "It didn't work."

_Smart, Albus, _thought Alec._ Anyway, let's sit down next to each other at the kitchen table, maybe the sound will be clearer if we're closer._

_All right,_ said Albus, as he started off towards the kitchen table. Alec followed. _Let's pull out a game of chess and think to each other while we play it, so that our prolonged silences aren't weird._

"Fancy a game of chess?" asked Alec aloud.

Albus nodded and looked around for his bag. "Hey… Chig?"

Another young Chig opened the door and leaned in—Asian-appearing, shaved head, scars and all, like every other one.

"Are you requiring a chessboard?" he asked.

_So they are listening,_ thought Albus. "Yes. Thank you."

He and Alec sat down at the table; the Chig snapped his fingers, and a full chessboard with all its pieces materialized there. Albus shivered at how precise and powerful their wandless magic was.

"That kid is so creepy," whispered Alec.

"It might not have been the same person," said Albus. "They all look the same."

Alec frowned. "That was really racist."

Albus dragged his hands down his face. "No. They're all…" He shook his head. "Just shut up and make the first move."

Alec was on the side of the white pieces, so he cleared his throat. "Pawn to f4," he said.

The pieces didn't move.

"Oi! Pawn to f4, you lazy sack!"

"I don't think this is an enchanted chessboard," laughed Albus. "I think you'll find you need to move the pieces by hand."

"Move our own chess pieces?! What is this, Azkaban? Geez. Fine." He picked up the pawn and moved it.

Albus moved a pawn in response.

"Pawn to e4," said Alec. He slapped a palm to his forehead. "Dammit." He moved the pawn himself, grumbling in misery as he did so.

As Albus continued the game, he turned his thoughts back to the earlier conversation. _Anyway… I was thinking. If the Propheteers get Herpo in here, they said they'll also bring Aether in here, to keep Aether close to them until the time is right for them to give him to me. But if they do end up capturing Herpo, and bringing him and Aether here… Then we wouldn't have to escape the entire compound wandless. We would just have to find Aether, and then I could reunite Pyron. With the power of Pyron, there's no way they could contain us._

_Hey, wait,_ thought Alec while offering a tempting bishop sacrifice as a gambit. _I know you don't have Pyron completed yet… but don't you already have the power of a couple of the Sprites?_

Albus looked up at Alec. "That's… a really good move," he said softly.

_The chess or my plan?_

_Both. I nearly forgot I could summon them to fight for us._

_Just be careful not to lose those Sprites… They're all we have._

Albus smirked. _I thought we were having a lucky streak like nobody's business._

_Well, maybe getting locked up by a bunch of crazies was a return on all the karma. Should we try to escape now or should we wait until Herpo gets here—for them to defeat and incapacitate Herpo for us and deliver Aether right where we are?_

_I think we should try to escape right now,_ thought Albus. _It would be easier to overtake merely Herpo and his servant to get to Aether rather than to try and overtake all of the Propheteers to get to Aether. And there's not even a guarantee whether they'll actually succeed in capturing Herpo, especially while Wilcox is looking for him right now. Wilcox may even track them if he's searching for Herpo—and what if he comes here and finds us locked in prisons without our wands? No, we've got to get out of here right now._

_All right. You're the guy with the Sprites, so… whenever you're ready._

_Mara might need some water to get summoned. I'll fill the bathtub, I guess, if that's the most water we're gonna get. Throw the game now so we can wrap it up faster._

_I'm not throwing the game! YOU throw the game._

_What?! I'm clearly winning right now._

_You ALWAYS win. Just give me this one._

_Fine! Just this once._

Albus sent his rook away from protection of his back rank. Alec studied the board carefully.

_Alec… there's a checkmate in two._

_I know!_ insisted Alec, and he moved his own rook down to the last rank. _I saw that. I was waiting because I…_

_Didn't see it._

_No! I was waiting because I wanted to make it look more realistic._

_Sure you were._ Albus laughed. "Shoot. I totally brain-farted there. That was the worst move I've made in a while."

"That's because you stink at chess," said Alec smugly, leaning back in his chair.

Albus rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna… take a bath, I guess," he said. "You don't have to leave yet. I'm just going to go fill up the tub… so that it's ready when I am."

"Good call," said Alec. "I don't remember the last time I bathed properly. Or the last time you did, either. You don't only stink in chess."

_I am so very close to leaving you behind,_ sighed Albus inwardly.

_Nah. You need me to keep you sane. And for my ideas which are so bad that they're good._

He walked over to the tub, and turned on the faucet, placing the plug in the drain. The tub began to fill slowly, and Albus's heart began to beat quickly.

The door opened. Another Chig leaned in, this one significantly older, in his twenties. He narrowed his eyes at Albus.

"Time for your friend to leave," said Chig Four or Five.

"Why?" asked Albus, and his heart started beating even faster; did they suspect?

"We detected a rise in your heart rate," said Chig Four or Five. "In our experience, this usually precipitates some sort of absurd escape attempt. In our experience, not one of one hundred and fifty-eight escape attempts has succeeded, and all one hundred and fifty-eight have resulted in swift reprisal."

Albus's heart betrayed his frantic commands to slow, and instead quickened. Chig Four or Five narrowed his eyes further.

With a lash of his hand, Chig Four or Five produced a rope whip out of thin air, headed straight for Alec to drag him away. Albus anticipated the move, and lashed his own arm; a wheel of fire flew from his hand and incinerated the rope before it reached Alec. Moving fluidly, he turned and threw his other arm at Chig Four or Five, then swept his first arm again; a pulse of energy slammed into him and knocked him back out the open door, and the second pulse of energy slammed the door shut.

Alec grabbed another piece of celery up off the counter. "_Colloportus!_" he yelled.

The door apparently sealed shut, but very weakly; half a second later, a stronger spell blasted the door back open, and half a dozen Chigs rushed into the room.

Albus closed his eyes, and imagined Terra bursting from the ground.

Nothing happened.

Frantically, he lunged over to the bathtub, and imagined Mara appearing; how the gigantic sea creature would fit in the bathtub, he didn't know, but Mara did not appear either.

"Fool," chuckled Chig Four or Five. "You have no contact with the world in this place. You can contact no one and you can summon no Sprites. We've been watching you for a long time, Potter, and we know what you can and cannot do. For example… you cannot escape. And no one will find you."

At that moment, a pulsing cloud, something that Albus had seen before, blasted through the door and made a beeline straight for Alec. It rushed into him and poured itself into his skin. Alec jumped, clawing at his skin.

"What did you do to me?!" he yelped.

_It wasn't them,_ thought Albus to Alec. _Someone DID find us!_

There was an explosion outside, and for a moment, Albus felt weightless, his feet lifting off the ground; then the world righted itself and he fell back onto the floor, along with everyone else. What was _that?_

Three brooms flew into room, and three voices called out in unison: "_Stupefy! Stupefy!_"

Teddy, Victoire, and Mia flew into the room, timing themselves perfectly so that all of their Stunners were point-blank. All six Chigs dropped to the ground. Teddy pulled up next to Albus and tossed him a wand; Mia pulled up next to Alec and tossed him one, too.

"_Geminio!_" exclaimed Victoire, flicking her wand at Teddy's broom; then she flicked it at Mia's. "_Geminio!_"

Teddy's and Mia's brooms were duplicated, and Albus and Alec mounted them. "Brooms are tricky to duplicate and they won't sustain their quality for long at all!" said Victoire, speaking rapidly. "We've gotta get back out as soon as possible. If you reenter the atmosphere and the broom doesn't do its job properly, you won't be able to control your speed!"

"_Reenter the atmosphere?!_" blurted Alec.

"We're in orbit," said Teddy. "Lucky for us, love apparently tracks you anywhere in the _universe,_ not just the world. Come on, we're in a corner right now and we don't want to get backed into it!"

They flew out of the containment, entering a hallway that was nothing like the cozy hotel room; it was colder in the hallway, which had metallic walls and absolutely no sense of direction whatsoever. Teddy seemed to know where he was going, though, and led the way through the halls.

As they turned a corner, they could see a group of Propheteers at the other end, hooded robes and all. They were racing towards the brooms. One of them slashed out a spell with his hand; a door behind them burst open, and a group of black cats rushed out, chasing after them.

"They sent the _cats_ on us?" asked Alec, looking backwards. "Wait—Albus, every one of those looks exactly like Gimmick!"

Albus's throat closed up. "They're mulunctapoli!"

The cats were pursuing them at terrifying speed, despite their flying on brooms. They fired out Stunners at the Propheteers, but the spells were dissipated with swipes of their arms, and they fired off spells of their own. Victoire put up a moving shield in front of them, but like Werora's fighters, the spells of the Propheteers were unnaturally powerful and were already shattering parts of the shield.

"Stay close!" said Teddy. "_Rupte!_"

His spell wasn't aimed at the hostiles in front or the pursuers in back, but rather at the wall several yards in front of them. A large rupture was struck into the metal wall, and as Teddy wrenched his wand to the other side, a large chunk of the wall ripped away. Victoire shot a spell at the removed steel panel, and it set itself in the hallway between them and the Propheteers as a temporary barrier. Teddy turned his broom and flew through the new opening; Albus and Alec followed. They were in a large conference room, with a window facing the Earth.

"Follow my lead!" said Teddy, and he took an enormous breath. He blew out a Bubble-Head Charm from the tip of his wand, and then as it encased his head, he kept blowing as he pulled the bubble farther with his wand tip. It encased his entire body, with only the edges of the broom sticking out. Victoire and Mia did the same, and Albus and Alec tried to replicate it. "Be careful!" shouted Teddy, his voice muffled. "It's hard to hear me now, but it will be impossible to hear anything outside your bubble when we're in space! Go, go, go!"

As soon as everyone had their bubbles, he fired out a spell that shattered the window; immediately, they were gripped by a strong gust that was carrying them outside. The window was healing itself like the Loch Stock Liner, but Teddy shattered it further. They flew through the opening, but they were ripped so harshly into the outside vacuum that Albus's broom was wrenched from between his legs, and soared off on its own.

The mulunctapoli appeared at the hole in the wall at the same time that the Propheteers did. Albus caught sight of them as he tumbled out of control past the opening, and he saw something that stopped his breathing: One of them scooped a mulunctapol up in his arms, and hurled it like a football. The mulunctapol soared towards them with jaws wide.

They sailed out of the window, and the window wasn't sealing fast enough. They soared out in different directions, but one of the Propheteers muscled his arms in Albus's direction, and the mulunctapol's flight path was altered, correcting itself directly at Albus. Two of the Propheteers then thrust their arms forward, and the mulunctapol disappeared from view—it became completely invisible.

The time spent in the vacuum of space wasn't enough to compromise the mulunctapol's body. Albus couldn't see it, but he could hear the rubbery sound of his bubble as mulunctapol passed through its surface and was enveloped.

And then he felt it sink its vicious teeth deep into his neck.


	18. Clashing Shadows

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CLASHING SHADOWS

O

Nobody else had noticed the invisible mulunctapol fired out in pursuit. No one else had noticed it clamp down on his neck. He tried to yell, but while they were in outer space, no one could hear him scream. And then his voice abruptly cut off as his lungs and all other muscles seized up.

_Alec,_ he thought desperately. _Alec, help me. There's a mulunctapol on my neck. ALEC!_

But the Connectivity Charm had only been cast with a goddamn piece of celery, and it wasn't strong enough to reach Alec, who was a few hundred feet away.

In his sixth year at Hogwarts, Albus had once been able to communicate telepathically without even casting a spell. He tried it again here, but his magic was so depleted already that he couldn't even feel himself getting close to the result.

Teddy noticed that Albus wasn't on his broom, and fired off a rope that whipped onto Albus's leg, holding tightly. Teddy then blasted off towards the Earth, and Albus was yanked along after him. But Teddy had no idea what was happening to Albus.

If they could get the mulunctapol off of his neck in time, he might still make it through this with his magic—depleted for a while, but it would eventually be restored. Albus tried to alert Teddy; he tried to jerk his leg, and maybe a yank on the rope would help Teddy realize Albus was trying to send him a signal. But all of his muscles were frozen, not from the cold but from the horror of his situation. As desperately as he tried to regain control, it was only making him even more terrified of what would happen if he couldn't, and it was a counterproductive effort.

As they flew further into the atmosphere, Teddy reeled Albus in, and Mia flew closer to Alec. Alec and Mia flew close enough that their bubbles joined and became one, and Teddy's and Albus's joined soon after.

"Ted," croaked Albus. "Ted—"

But his breathy heaves were not heard over the air rushing against the bubbles, or Teddy casting continuous charms on his bubble to keep himself from bursting into flame as they flew with ever-increasing speed towards the planet's surface.

They were moving so fast, with so much friction between their bubbles and the outside air, that lightning bolts began crackling around them, and then there was no way Albus was going to make himself heard. He willed his muscles to move, so he could grab Teddy's shoulder or otherwise make a disturbance enough to be noticed, but he simply couldn't. Whether his body was just in shock, or whether the mulunctapol was using his own magic to restrain him, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

They continued their descent. Entire minutes passed by, with the mul still attached to his neck. It was far, far longer than Clayton Slater had the muls on him; with two muls, Clay had lost his magic in four or five seconds. How long would one take to drain him? Probably no more than ten seconds, and they had been on their flight back into the planet for at least a dozen times that length. Any hope, the slightest hope at all that the mulunctapol would not finish its job, was now gone… as, presumably, was all of his magic.

The only thing he had left was the possibility of reuniting Aether with the other sprites and reconstructing Pyron. He was otherwise powerless.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized all of the things he would never again be able to do. Was there a solution to this? No—if there was, no one had found it yet. And the only person he might have thought would be able to fix this was Desulgon, but Desulgon had been killed.

Finally, Teddy took a sharp angle, hovering now almost parallel to the ground, and they decelerated very, very slowly; the brooms were traveling faster than he'd ever traveled. Albus was dangling under Teddy's broom, with the invisible mulunctapol still dangling from his neck. They slowed, finally, to a complete stop, and Teddy let his bubble pop. The others skidded down next to him, looking with concern at Albus.

"We've gotta move," said Teddy. "We should Apparate, in case they're invisibly tailing us. Albus—are you all right to Disapparate?"

With great effort, Albus curled his fingers until he was somewhat making a pointing gesture, and he shakily twitched his hand in the direction of his neck. "Mul…" he sputtered. "Mul…"

"What?" Teddy cast a Connectivity Charm between them, and cast his thoughts to Albus. _Are you all right? What happened?_

_Mulunctapol. Invisible. On my neck. The entire time._

Teddy gasped, and then lifted his wand. "_Finite Incantatem!_"

With the Disillusionment Charm lifted, the mulunctapol flickered into view, and Mia screamed. "NO!" roared Alec.

Teddy leaned down, and yanked; the mul was secured tight in its grip. He cast a few spells, but they bounced off. He dropped to his knees by Albus's head and started trying to pry the creature's jaws open by force, but it wouldn't let go.

"Why hasn't it detached?" asked Victoire. "Don't they detach when they're done? Maybe—did it die in space? Did it not get the chance to suck out his magic?"

"And why is it so _big?_" asked Alec.

Teddy let go, failing to open its grip at all. He backed away. "Holy crap," he said. "It _is_ huge."

Albus looked sideways; in his peripheral vision, he could see that it was clearly much larger than the size of his cat—and it seemed to still be growing.

Abruptly, the mulunctapol burst open. Flashes of multicolored light like fireworks exploded in the air all around them, and the four others staggered backwards.

"Holy shit!" blurted Teddy. "What in the hell…"

The jaws were still closed around Albus's neck, just without the eyes, ears, or rest of the head. The rest of the animal had blasted away into hundreds of pieces. Teddy leaned down and closed a hand around the upper jaw and one around the lower jaw; he finally wrenched the jaws open, and off of Albus's neck.

Albus was still immobile from the shock, but with his friends and family standing around him, he slowly gained control. He started to sit up, and Alec assisted him.

"What the hell happened?" said Teddy. "Not that I've seen many mulunctapoli, but I'm pretty sure they don't usually do that…"

"It's like it ate too much," said Mia, "and exploded."

"Ate too much?" breathed Victoire. "Does that mean it was still eating when it blew up? So it didn't finish?"

Albus was still holding the wand Teddy had thrown him. He looked over at it.

"_L—L—_" He swallowed, and gathered his focus. "_Lumos._"

And the tip of his wand illuminated ever so slightly.

Alec, Mia, Teddy, and Victoire all collapsed on the ground in relief at the same time. Albus was already on the ground, so he simply fell completely limp.

"We should still get out of here," said Teddy. "I've set up another safe place. We can talk about how weird this was when we get there."

Teddy grabbed Albus's arm, and Victoire grabbed his other arm; Mia grabbed Victoire's arm, and Alec grabbed hers. Teddy turned and vanished.

They reappeared in a small room inside some sort of cave, dimly lit with a blue light. It took Albus a moment to realize where they were, and only after a fish drifted past the window: they were underwater.

"It's an abandoned sea research habitat," said Teddy. "There was some sort of accident here a long time ago, and nearly the entire containment burst and was flooded. I worked with Hestra, the mermaid from the crow's nest of the LSL, to patch it up and drain it so I could move in here. Figured they could scour the entire world and not notice me if I'm underwater. Like Desulgon on the moon, but better."

"Desulgon on the what?" asked Mia.

"So, Albus," said Teddy. "You're just full of surprises. I don't suppose you're any the wiser than we are, as to why a mulunctapol that was attached to you for a good three minutes didn't completely drain you of your magic?"

"I have no idea," said Albus.

"You might be more of a 'chosen one' than your dad," said Alec. "Didn't you say you also picked up a sword that the Sandbloods said could only be wielded by a Squib?"

"Oh," said Albus. "You know… so much has happened since then that I nearly forgot about that. Yeah, I did."

"Is it possible he's something else?" said Mia. "Like… not human? No offense, Albus."

"Not human?" Albus grimaced. "That's ridiculous…"

"This is the second hint," said Alec. "Dismiusa stopped being human after too many Devoctrices. So did Werora, it looked like."

"You'll have to get us up to speed on the Werora encounter, too," laughed Teddy. "You guys just get involved in everything, don't you?" He pointed his wand at Albus. "_Homenum Revelio._"

A red-orange halo appeared over Albus's head; the same color halos formed over Mia's, Alec's, and Victoire's heads, and Teddy's own head.

"It looks like he's just as human as any of us," said Teddy. "Of course, I'm not sure that's a foolproof test of it, but I'd guess there's a different explanation."

"It's probably going to be weird," said Albus. "Especially if my resistance to the mulunctapol is connected to why I could pick up the Squib-only sword."

He looked around at the others in the underwater lab, but directed his words mostly to Alec. "You know we're probably not done with those freaks, right? We still have to go… get that thing from Herpo, and they'll be after it too. They know we have to go to him, and they'll probably be waiting for us."

"You're still willing to take that risk?" said Alec. "You know that if they capture us again… That swift rescue from their base was one of the biggest flukes we've ever had, and we've had some big ones. What's going to happen if they get us again?"

Albus sighed. "It's a big risk, yeah," he said. "But I'm willing to risk everything for this chance. If we don't get this one—what else can we do against Wilcox, honestly? This could be the only way to stop him; we've been brainstorming this for half a year and we've only come up with ways to slow him down. But if we have a chance to stop him… Yeah. I'm willing to risk everything for what I know is right." He looked everyone in the eye in turn. "I've had to risk other people's lives for what I know is right. I'm willing to risk my own."

He felt a surge of some sort of power inside of him as he said it. Something had been triggered by his words. The loyalty to his cause that he had expressed in those words… It had summoned something that was connected to that loyalty.

A fireball appeared in the center of the room and grew. Out of the flames burst Alana the phoenix, who had just Apparated into their midst—and she was carrying two passengers.

Aidan and Cynthia Birchbaum slowly stood up, examining their surroundings.

"AIDAN!" screamed Alec and Albus at the same time, and they ran at their friend and hugged him as tightly as ever. Mia, who had grown up for six years in the same house as Aidan, also ran at him and encased him in a giant hug.

Aidan laughed. "Guys!" he exclaimed. "Guys… did you see that?! A _phoenix_ brought me here, a damned _phoenix!_ It must have really been paying attention to us. It came to find me and it just Apparated me here to you guys!"

"Harry said he called Dumbledore's phoenix to him with words when he was inside the Chamber of Secrets," said Victoire. "Phoenixes are very in tune with the passions of those to whom they are connected. It must have sensed your emotions; your devotion and dedication to the preservation of life wherever you can."

"You won over a phoenix's approval?" said Aidan. "Wow! What have you been up to since I was gone?!"

"You have no idea," said Alec. "Should we dive right into the explanation, then?"

"Yes," said Albus. "Sit down, everyone. Everyone here deserves to know, and it's really important for what we're about to do."

O

Lucy choked on the gray slime again. Her stomach cartwheeled in frustration with her, but she forced it down anyway. Her body knew that this poor excuse for food was making her weak, and forcing her mind to stay strong in defiance was a fragile antic.

Grody tapped his foot outside her cage. "Are you really still trying to win this? Did you think I was going to cave in and give you steak again? It's gray slime until you at least flash those pretty tits for me."

Lucy stared him in the eye as she scooped up the next heap of slime.

Grody glared at her. "What are you trying to accomplish here?" he asked. "If you're planning on giving yourself to me _eventually,_ what's the difference between doing it now or later?"

"I can't be sure that you'll keep your word."

"As I said, I'll probably end up wanting _more_ after the first round," said Grody. "And even if that weren't the case—wouldn't you run the same risk if you have it your way? What if I give you everything you ask for, and then you have sex with me, and I take it away again right after?"

"Then I guess it's not worth the risk for me to try at all," said Lucy, "and you can stop asking."

"Oh, come off it," said Grody. "You enjoy sex. I know you do—I captured you because I found you whoring yourself out at a Muggle pub. Yes, I suppose I would be suspicious of me if I was in your place. But why wouldn't you take the chance that I could so drastically improve your conditions—especially when the only risk you're taking to try and get there is by doing something you enjoy?!"

"Maybe you misunderstand my sexuality," said Lucy. "I think what I enjoy is _deciding_ to have sex with someone—not having someone decide it for me. And not using it as a bargaining chip to restore the basic human rights they've taken away."

Grody scoffed. "People get those taken away all the time. It's how the world works. If I hadn't locked you up in here, I'd have been murdered by the Man in the Shadows for disobeying him. I had to lock you up. What I _don't_ have to do is help you cope by granting you these amenities I'm offering. Hell, I'll even install a shower for you, as long as we get to have sex in that too. I think I'm a pretty nice guy."

"Then I guess we're at an impasse," said Lucy. "There's no way for me to be sure that you're going to follow through on your word if I agree to have sex with you. And there's no way for you to be sure that I'm going to follow through on my word if you agree to make my prison cell bearable."

"Well," said Grody, flashing another patented toothy grin of his. "There is _one_ way we could both be sure that we'll both never go back on our word…"

Lily's mouth tilted down in a confused frown. "What's that…?"

"The Unbreakable Vow," smirked Grody. "It wipes all traces of you from the planet—you can't escape your departure from existence if you break the Unbreakable Vow, even if you have a Horcrux." He rubbed his hands together. "Wanna try it?"

O

"Wow," said Teddy once Albus finished his explanation.

Mia looked impressed. "I guess the Loch Stock Liner doesn't get to say 'Hazard-free since 1883' anymore, huh."

Then, Teddy started nodding his head. "This is incredible," he said. "If there's something that even slipped _Desulgon's_ notice… Or did it? Maybe he thought this information was too dangerous to keep any record of it at all."

"Well, it hasn't slipped Wilcox's," said Albus. "And he's bound to be on his way to lay waste to Herpo now."

"Well, he's going to have a rough time of it," said Teddy. "Our sources say that Herpo is in the Americas, raising an army of zombies that he's mutating into even worse things."

"Worse?" asked Aidan. "Like Inferi?"

"Inferi, Kinderaiths, and some that are just terrifyingly enhanced versions of zombies. He's been doing some studying up on what other awful Dark wizards have done since he last walked the Earth. Herpo is the one behind the initial outbreak of Kinderaiths, by the way, we figured out, but I assume Wilcox then took the idea and ran with it, because they seem to be doing his bidding, too."

"Herpo has learned how to make Kinderaiths," said Alec. "So you _can_ teach an old dog new tricks. That's bad news for us, then…"

"This presents another opportunity we haven't discussed yet," said Aidan. "Albus, if Wilcox will be taking his forces to combat Herpo, it might open up Hogwarts."

"Why would you need to go to Hogwarts?" asked Alec. "Aidan, I don't think Wilcox will be away long enough for you to take your N.E.W.T.s."

"I don't need to go there," said Aidan. "Albus does."

"I do?" said Albus, trying to remember what Aidan was referring to.

Aidan raised an eyebrow at Albus, and then it clicked—Aidan was referring to Parker Pullman, Kayla Reagan, and Aethan Maddox, whom Albus needed in order to cure his Chaos Contagion. A Dementor, too, but Alec had come up with the idea of using a Miasmus to lure a Dementor, so that base was covered.

"It's not a pressing issue, though," said Albus. "It takes a long time to completely take hold. Right? Twenty-three cycles of twenty-three days before it takes me over. That's well over a year."

"Yes, but you've accelerated a few of those cycles," said Aidan, "and I'd rather we not take any chances. Since you're not always going to have access to the Chaos Drain, I expect you should also want to avoid purposefully destroying anyone else's mind, which you would have to do at the end of every twenty-three day cycle if you want to keep your mind."

"What on Earth is all this about?" asked Cynthia. "You're trying to do what, now? Does Albus have some medical condition I could help with?"

"Medical condition, technically," said Aidan. "A Transfection called the Chaos Contagion. As to whether you can help, I don't think so."

"Oh," said Cynthia. "You have it, too? They didn't tell me that…"

"It wasn't immediately relevant," said Teddy.

"But I do know what it is," said Cynthia. "And that the only cure is to have a blind person, a deaf person, and a mute person touch the soul at the same time. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil… And it would banish the chaos. Or so says Dalton Desulgon. That's how we were supposed to cure him. Teddy told me."

"And we were the ones who told Teddy," said Albus. "Desulgon is gone, but we still need to cure me. So we'll be headed to Hogwarts, the only place where we could find three magical people who we trust enough to have them do that." Albus scratched his head. "As to summoning a Dementor so that we can perform this ritual… We'll be using a Miasmus for that, but it will be a little difficult, seeing as the Miasmus tends to lure a lot more than just one." He folded his arms. "Still, though. I think we have to focus on defeating Wilcox as soon as possible, and right now. Once we have the power of Pyron, anything else we want to do would be easy as pie. Raiding Hogwarts would be a lot easier. We have a few stops that Pyron would make a lot easier—raiding Wilcox's prisons is up on my list, too, to save Lucy."

"I can try that if I can secure the Bloodblade recharger," said Teddy. "Pyron would be a great asset, of course, but I think the prison break might require stealth over power. You might not want to head directly into enemy territory and put yourself in a dead-end surrounded by Wilcox's forces. That might end badly no matter how much power you have."

"Well, hopefully we can gain the power now and decide later," said Albus. "_Lumos._"

His wand tip lit brighter than before, but still not as brightly as usual.

"Seems like your magic is almost fully restored," said Cynthia. "But remember that it may not get all the way to peak if you're not using one of your own wands."

"I hate those stupid Propheteer guys," said Alec. "I wish I had my wands back."

"At least Alana brought us our bags," said Albus. "We'd be totally screwed without the rest of our stuff—Invisibility Cloak, the Bloodblade, our Polyjuice stock…"

"They took HERMAN, though," said Alec. "That was one of our most important assets, along with our wands—"

"Did you say Alana?" asked Teddy suddenly.

"We named the phoenix," said Albus.

"Oh," said Teddy. "But her name… actually gives me an idea."

"What's that?"

"Well," said Teddy, "when we go to get Aether from Herpo… the Propheteers are going to be there, too, and they're going to want Albus so they can kidnap him again." He looked around. "This will be an immense risk, I won't lie, and anyone here who doesn't want to take it doesn't have to. But, if they're looking for Albus Potter, I have an idea of how to throw them off. You said you had a stock of Polyjuice? Why not take a page from your dad's book… and give them seven Potters?"

"No," said Albus immediately.

"Yes," responded Alec, Aidan, Mia, Victoire, and Cynthia simultaneously.

"No," repeated Albus. "Yeah, I know my dad did it, but it resulted in the death of one of their best fighters. I don't want anyone else to die on my behalf."

"No one wants anyone to die," said Mia. "But I think what everyone wants _less_ is for Wilcox to take over the world."

"And we're not dying on your behalf, Albus," said Victoire. "Sorry to deflate your ego a bit, but we're taking the risk because we want the payoff."

"It's _my_ plan," said Albus, "and my plan does not involve the people closest to me getting—"

"Albus," said Teddy, pinching the bridge of his nose, "we've commandeered your plan. It's everyone's plan now. Just because we agreed with your initial idea, though, doesn't mean your decisions will overrule everyone else's. And I wonder where you and the world would be right now if everyone had always left you by yourself so no one had to 'die on your behalf'. How often do you think your dad made this argument, and how many times do you think he won it?"

Albus grumbled into his wrist, and then Aidan reached over and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. "Ow!"

Teddy suddenly jumped out of his chair, into a standing position. He pulled out an old-fashioned scroll, and unrolled it. Looking at the back of the scroll, Albus could see the imprints of words that were starting to appear on the front. It was some sort of communication device, and Teddy looked extremely concerned as he scanned whatever message had been sent to it.

"They've located Herpo," said Teddy. "It's being enacted as a Ministry raid, so that the world can gain confidence in the new Minister, Su Jun, a former Auror who's really a puppet for Wilcox. Their forces will be upon him within the hour."

"Su Jun is a puppet for Wilcox?" sputtered Albus. "She used to babysit me!"

"Well, she's not under mind control, so it looks like she's bought into Wilcox's anti-Muggle rhetoric and shifted allegiances," said Victoire.

"Could she be a double agent who's really on our side all along?" asked Alec.

"We can't count it _out,_ but we can't count _on_ it. In either case," continued Teddy, "they're planning to capture Herpo and completely defang him, and then imprison him in Nurmengard. And I assume Wilcox will interrogate the location of Aether out of him once that's done. Can we find Aether before he does?"

Albus looked over at Alana. "Do you know where Aether is now?"

Alana vanished in a burst of flame. A few seconds later, presumably after having checked in with the royal phoenix atop Mount Solaeris, she reappeared, and nodded her beak at him.

"We can find him anywhere," said Albus, grinning; that could have been the biggest issue, but now it appeared not to be a problem at all.

"Can you find out exactly when the attack is going to happen?" asked Mia. "So we can time this right and not run into Herpo, but not wait too long for Wilcox to get to Aether first?"

"They're starting now," said Teddy. "They knew Albus was interested in getting to Herpo, too, and they're not wasting a second since they don't know where he is."

Albus nodded. "Should we go? Lay low until Herpo gets distracted?"

Teddy transformed himself with his Metamorphmagus abilities into the image of Caradoc Slade. "I'll see if I can use my usual disguise to penetrate the offensive front and find out exactly when Herpo enters the fight. I'll send a signal from my Reen; Victoire has one that's linked to mine."

He held up a small capsule-shaped object that was glowing red; Victoire reached into her pocket and took out one that looked exactly the same. Teddy gave his a flick with his fingernail, and it turned green; Victoire's turned green at the same time. He flicked it again to reset it to red. "So, when the Reen turns green, that's the signal to head into the fray. And be ready to fight, in case there are other hostiles closing in on Aether. Get that Polyjuice ready—it may be our best defense if the Fate Mafia comes to town, or if Wilcox himself joins. If I meet up with you later, I of course won't need the Polyjuice. I'll hopefully see you all soon." He turned and vanished.

"Albus, you may still have a tough time if you get into any duels, since you're still pretty heavily drained," said Victoire. "You may want to leave the dueling to us, and you and Alec should find Aether as fast as possible. If you can get that done first, we can just leave right away."

"We should get the Polyjuice ready so we can take it right before we leave," said Mia, and Aidan pulled some out of his bag.

Cynthia nodded. "My injured hand will be better if I turn into Albus, so I'll help."

Alec leaned in close to Albus. "Can we Connect for a moment?" he mumbled.

Albus was taken slightly aback; Alec looked like he was still stealing Aidan's job of being concerned about something. He nodded; Alec pointed his wand at Albus's forehead. "_Tranousodia._"

_Okay,_ thought Alec to him. _Albus, I have to remind you of something the Propheteers told me that they probably told you, too. They told me that there was a prophecy about this. A prophecy that involves you dying._

_It involves Wilcox dying, too,_ thought Albus back. _If the prophecy comes true, then once I unlock the power of Pyron, I could take out both Wilcox and Herpo in one night. Wilcox still has his Horcruxes, but he wouldn't be back in action for a while, maybe long enough to find those Horcruxes and take them out. If the other part of the prophecy holds and I'm wiped off the planet with them… honestly, I'm fine with that._

Alec took a deep breath, and then nodded to Albus.

The light on Victoire's Reen flashed green.

"Already?!" yelped Mia, dropping Albus's hair into her Polyjuice. "Wilcox is wasting no time at all." She chugged the potion, and everyone else followed.

Alana noticed they were preparing to leave, and she lifted off into the air. She hovered above them and hung her tail down.

"Everybody grab on," said Albus. Cynthia, Victoire, Mia, Alec, and Aidan all grabbed hold of Alana's tail, and Albus grabbed last; Alana gave out a cry that filled them with energy, and then she Disapparated, carrying them all with her.

When they appeared, they were in a small natural cavern. They remained floating gently in the air, bumping into each other softly; Alana was carrying them all, not letting them down until she was sure it was safe. She slowly lowered herself down to the ground, looking around. There was one dark corner of the cave, and she spat a crimson fireball which illuminated it to make sure nothing was there.

Alana descended all the way until her six passengers touched the ground. Albus looked around. "I don't see… what we're looking for," he said softly to Alana.

Alana looked around; she didn't seem to be entirely sure where to go from here. She clucked her beak and ruffled her feathers in apprehension.

Then, there was unexpected movement all around them. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, peeled from the walls—human-shaped rocks. The rock shells peeled away, revealing two dozen Chigs. The Albuses all set themselves in defensive positions, and Albus felt a chill down his spine as he realized he hadn't even sensed the Chigs at all—they had somehow masked all signs of their presence, even their auras.

"Albus Potter," said one of the Chigs. "One doesn't even need a prophecy to tell where your predictable movements lead you." He scanned the crowd. "I see you've found some more hapless fools whom you don't mind adding to your trail of bodies. Like Sahil Vivekkamal… Damien Tashra…"

Albus twitched—a very slight movement that he almost managed to suppress—and suddenly every one of the twenty-something Propheteers swarmed in his direction, firing spells from their open palms. He'd given himself away by reacting to their taunts; it had been the smallest of movements, but they were keenly aware of it right away.

As he was Dissipating and dodging the attacks with great difficulty, and with many very near misses, Alana swooped down and grabbed him; she teleported him behind the horde, and he Stunned one of the Propheteers in the back. That one was immediately revived by another Chig, and they all turned to face him; Alana teleported him back, and then she was swooping in all directions, teleporting his friends across the room at will to confuse the enemy, and teleporting the Chigs somewhere out of the cavern when she could manage to get her talons on them. Albus said a silent prayer of thanks that they had a phoenix with them on this quest.

Albus swept the Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and wrapped himself in it quickly; ducking behind a pile of rock that had been ejected from the cavern wall during the duel, he checked his Hocus-Focuser; it was pointing directly upward.

_Aether is above us!_ he thought to Alec, wherever Alec was; and he pulled off the Cloak to continue their duel. Only about half of the Chigs were left, and they were still being picked off by Alana, who was grabbing hold of them and teleporting, presumably dropping the Propheteers off extremely far away.

Two of the Chigs were dueling with wands, which took Albus a while to process long enough for him to realize how weird it was—didn't they never usually use wands? And then as one of his spells intercepted a spell from one of those Chigs' wands, the wand was knocked instantly out of the Chig's hand, and flew right at Albus. Albus caught the Devil's Snare wand, and the intense warmth that flowed through his hand let him instantly know that it was his own wand he was holding.

But they must have planned that out—they knew that the person to whom the wand flew had to be Albus, since his wand had recognized him and refused to duel against him. Though he now had his own wand, he was facing the full assault of every remaining Propheteer who now knew which Albus he was; they weren't letting him out of their sight. Albus was backed into a corner, and they cast a great many barrier spells behind them so that his friends could not come to his aid—

And then, a blast of wind funneled through the cave. It missed Albus, but hit every single Chig and sent them careening through the air, into the side of the cave; they all smacked their heads and had to take a moment to recover. Alec descended from the ceiling of the cave—from the sight of the winged angelic figure carrying him through the air and generating massive gusts of wind, he had heard Albus's call about where Aether was, and had departed the fight to capture Aether temporarily to aid them in the combat.

Aether flapped his wings, and a tornado brewed right in the middle of the cave, tearing through the enemy ranks, picking up Propheteers and boulders and crashing them into each other. Albus closed his eyes and concentrated, and Terra burst through the cavern floor next, swinging his metal sword through the air to deflect spells in front of Albus. Terra pounded the ground with a fist, and rocks poured from the ceiling, bashing into the heads of their attackers.

Desperately working to avoid their decimation at the hands of the Sprites, the Propheteers were easy pickings for Mia's and Victoire's Stunning Spells, which they were too distracted to be able to successfully defend against. Cynthia was also doing well for herself, despite not really being a fighter. And finally, after Alec had Aether produced a violent gust downward that pinned all of the Propheteers to the ground, Alana and the other Albus impersonators finished their work in neutralizing all threats. Cynthia grasped up Albus's other wand, which one of the Propheteers was carrying, and threw it in Albus's direction; he caught it in his free hand, and even more warmth poured through his veins.

Abruptly, a tunnel opened up leading into the room, and Herpo the Foul staggered in. He snarled fiercely when he saw who was already there, and who had already claimed his prize. Herpo raised his staff, and fired a Killing Curse right at Albus's chest.

Terra opened up the ground under his master, and Albus dropped into a pit as the curse sailed harmlessly overhead; the rock raised back into place, and he and the other Albuses began to duel. Herpo was keeping pace with all six of them.

_Fire a spell at me!_ cried Alec inwardly. _Fire a spell at me—take my Sprite by Priori Incantatem, and you'll be able to finish constructing Pyron! Herpo won't stand a chance after that!_

"_Expelliarmus!_" cried Albus and Alec together, spinning in place and thrusting their wands at each other, and their jets connected in a brilliant flash of light.

Albus and Alec were lifted up into the air, slowly rotating around each other; beads of light formed in the jet connecting their wands. As Albus turned around, he saw Alec's horrified face as there were several intense bursts of light behind him, and as Albus slowly rotated back around and the other side of the cave entered his view, he saw what had horrified his friend.

Herpo was lying on the ground, his eyes wide and cold. Was he dead?! But there was no time to be relieved, because if he was dead he had been killed by someone much worse. Helio Wilcox himself was standing next to Herpo's assumed corpse, just outside the dome of light from their connected wands. Wilcox was smashing spell after furious spell into their dome, trying to crack it to reach them, and small fractures had already begun spreading from the point of contact.

The loose rocks scattered from the battle were levitating around Albus in a circle now, as small mountains rose from the ground under him wherever he passed. Waves of water began percolating from under them, also following Albus and crashing in between the mountains; strong gusts of wind were being whipped up under Alec's feet. Albus tried to ignore the impending possibility of Wilcox severing their connection, and he focused all of his energy on the beads of light in the wand connection—but they were already moving in his direction.

_Alec, stop! What are you doing?! Let me push the beads at you so I can release your Sprite from you and conquer it!_

_No,_ thought Alec back, all of his concentration and determination set. _The person who reunites Pyron is going to die. You heard the prophecy; the Propheteers explained everything to me, too. You won't die if I can help it. Just let me—_

_ABSOLUTELY NOT!_ thought Albus, screaming at Alec inwardly. _Alec, stop—if we spend too long fighting, Wilcox is going to break through the dome and snap the connection, and we'd be done for! Stop resisting!_

_YOU stop resisting!_

Wilcox was set upon by the other Albus Potters, but he knew that none of them was his true target—he blasted them backwards with roiling waves of energy, and set himself back onto the task of shattering the dome, and it looked like he was getting close with the size of the cracks of light that were spreading throughout the dome from where he was pummeling it.

_This ends today,_ insisted Albus,_ but it's supposed to be me—it has to be me—all of this is about me, and I can't let you die because of me, too!_

_Wilcox wants all of us dead, not just you. I'd still be defying him if I'd never met you—he'd want me dead anyway because I'll never bow to him! So it wouldn't be dying "because of you." And this way, you can stay alive, to keep being important in those future prophecies as well. It's my decision, too, Albus, and if you want to overrule me, you'll have to overpower me!_

_Then I will!_

Albus clenched his teeth and poured all of his might into the connection. A loud, sharp crack echoed through the chamber, and a large fracture spread almost to the top of the dome—Wilcox had almost broken through to them.

Albus roared and directed even more energy than he imagined he could muster—though he may not have recovered fully from the mulunctapol bite yet, he was using one of his own wands while Alec was using a spare, and he had the magical power of two Sprites backing his claim while Alec had only one. As Wilcox fired off spell after spell that were each possibly the one that could destroy their protective dome, the beads broke through Alec's resistance, and started moving in his direction. Finally, the closest bead touched Alec's wand, and electricity and bursts of flame ricocheted all over the cave. Wilcox ducked for cover, and the angelic humanoid form of Aether burst forth once again into the cavern.

At the same time, Albus commanded Mara and Terra both to appear; Mara's gigantic sea creature form burst from an underground reservoir, breaking through the brittle rock of the corner of the cave, and Terra exploded from the earthen wall nearby; Mara staked Aether through the heart with the horn that projected from its sea monster form's forehead, and Terra speared Aether straight through the neck with its metallic sword.

Aether vanished in a plume of feathers, conquered.

Albus stood still, waiting. Even Wilcox, who had leapt atop the rock pile that he had been hiding behind, stood in wait, assessing the situation—if he should stay and keep trying to kill Albus, or flee while he had the chance. The five other Albuses in the room waited; and with a burst of flame, one more Albus appeared with Alana the phoenix—Teddy, probably. When he saw everyone staring in wait at Albus, he seemed to already know what had happened.

"It's finally over," said a voice from behind them all.

Turning, they saw Herpo's servant, standing next to his master's mangled corpse. He was laughing softly to himself—not his usual maniacal laughter, but the gentle, resolved laughter of someone whose troubles had just vanished.

But he wasn't looking at Herpo. He was looking at Albus.

"You've done it," said Herpo's servant. "You've collected all three Sprites."

Desperately, Albus searched within himself for any newfound powers or abilities; there had to be something for him to go on. If Wilcox and Herpo's servant realized that he had no idea how to do anything more with this knowledge…

"You're the only one who can finish the job I started," said Herpo's servant. "I've waited thousands of years for this."

"Bullshit," said one of the other Albuses in exasperation, whom the original Albus could only assume was Alec. "Don't tell me you're going to try and convince us you _wanted_ this to happen for Albus."

"Of course I did," said Herpo's servant. "I _myself_ couldn't do it, certainly—there are rules. Now, then…"

Herpo's servant placed his hand on the side of his head, and suddenly, Albus lost complete control of his body; his arms flew up to his sides, and Terra, Mara, and Aether all reappeared in the room, behind Albus as he stood, immobile. A barrier formed between Albus and the rest of his friends—Herpo's servant cut them off. They fired spells to try to get through, but nothing happened.

"What the hell are you doing to me?!" cried Albus at the servant.

Herpo's servant smiled. "Fulfilling all of the prophecies… fulfilling my entire life's mission. And then… I can go to rest… at last." He lifted his other hand to his head and began rubbing his fingers on his temples, and then Albus's hands started moving on their own. They were doing a wild dance that he knew could only be the casting of a Devoctrix.

Power surged through his veins—he didn't know what Herpo's servant was planning in all of this, but he could tell what was happening. The servant was forcing Albus to perform the Devoctrix that would reunite the separate pieces of Pyron back into one whole.

And then Albus's hands stopped moving, and there was a deep reverberating _gong_ sound, like the world's biggest bell had thundered out its call. The room began to shake and the temperature rose so fast it felt like his skin was boiling. Everyone, even Wilcox, was still standing stunned in place, awestruck at the immensity of what was happening. A white-hot light began shining behind him, with the smell of smoke billowing out, and then an intense burst of fire directly preceded a guttural bellow of incredible ferocity.

It was Pyron.


	19. The Burning Day

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE BURNING DAY

O

Pyron was floating in the air in front of Albus, flickering like a flame. His red skin was slowly roiling like magma; he did not have hair on this skin, but rather tiny sparks that jumped from pore to pore. He had some sort of red scarf wrapped around his neck; it was thin and long, and these tendrils waved behind him like banners, despite there being no breeze. His exhales made the air in front of him ripple. Standing in his presence felt even hotter than when Alec had Apparated them inside a volcano.

A green curse flew from Wilcox's wand, and struck Pyron directly in the face, blasting his head from his shoulders.

Albus cut off a scream, but it didn't seem to be that easy—Pyron's severed head was engulfed in flames and burned to ash, but a new head bloomed like a flame reviving a dying bonfire, and like a lava flow cooling, his head grew solid again. He turned and looked at Wilcox, irritated.

With a wave of his hand, an explosion of fire engulfed Wilcox's entire body, except his head so that they could see his pain and horror. His eyes bulged, and his tongue protruded slightly. There was no scream, only the roar of rushing heat, and when the fire was gone, a heap of charred bones fell to the ground, and his head plopped neatly down atop the bone pile, leaking blood and brain fluid.

There were still the Horcruxes, of course, but until he got a new body, Wilcox was decisively and demonstrably gone.

The way in which it had happened was so sudden, and so obscenely violent, that no one in Albus's party was even cheering at all, despite the victory. Albus didn't begin celebrating yet, either, because there was only one problem.

He hadn't commanded Pyron to do that yet.

"Just as powerful as I remember," sighed Herpo's servant.

Pyron whirled around, instantly in a fiery fury. He caught sight of Herpo's servant, and narrowed his red, burning eyes.

"Cordot," snarled Pyron.

"Lamenta," responded Herpo's servant, still grinning like an idiot.

_CORDOT?_ thought Alec loudly into Albus's head. _Like—Like DRAXLER CORDOT?! No way. He's not… He can't be!_

Albus gawked. The servant of Herpo the Foul—was Draxler Cordot? The ancient magical theorist—one of the first to use Devoctrices? Had it been him the entire time?!

And as he stared at the face of Cordot, he realized that the resemblance he thought he'd seen was exactly that. The face on the statue of Cordot in the Hourglass Empire… It was the same face he saw on the servant of Herpo the Foul now.

Herpo's servant was Draxler Cordot.

_I've waited thousands of years for this,_ he had said. He had been waiting thousands of years for someone to reunite Pyron? But hadn't he been the one to destroy Pyron initially—to shatter him into the three pieces of Terra, Mara, and Aether? Why would he have wanted Pyron reunited? It didn't make sense… Unless he wanted someone worthy enough to have Pyron's power?

Was that person Albus?

"Go on," said Cordot. "I won't defend myself. Take your revenge. I accept my fate." He took a deep breath and smiled. "I have done so much for so long, and my work… is finally finished. So, finish me off."

"Not yet," said Albus, holding up a hand. "If you're Draxler Cordot, then I have a _lot_ of questions for—"

But Pyron was bucking his authority. With a ferocious howl, he raised his arms and thrust them forward; the scarf-like tendrils from around his neck flew forward, controlled as easily as any of his limbs. One of them pierced all the way through Cordot, directly through his heart, and the other through his stomach. Pyron thrust his arms out on either side of his body, and the tendrils ripped like he was tearing apart a piece of parchment. Cordot's body was torn straight in half, with the halves flung against either side of the cave. His body slumped to the floor on both sides of the cavern, with both halves of his mouth curled up in a satisfied smile as his organs spilled out from both halves of his chest. The barrier he had cast between Albus and his friends faded instantly.

"NO!" screamed Albus. "What—I didn't—_stop!_"

Pyron turned to face Albus, and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes even further. Albus had the terrible sinking dread that Pyron was contemplating an effective third way to brutally dispatch a man.

"Who are you that would command me?" asked Azra Lamenta, the man known as Pyron.

"I—I am Albus Potter," stammered Albus. "I re—I reunited your three pieces to f-form—reform your—construct your body again."

"Three pieces?" Pyron scoffed. "I do not understand. Explain your standing to me now."

Albus felt like he couldn't get enough breath into his body. "Your three pieces—Terra, Mara, and Aether. The three Sprites. You were broken up into three parts—scattered around the globe—I brought you back together to—"

He swallowed his tongue, and didn't finish the sentence.

"I do not know what you talk about," said Pyron. He looked around. "I only know that I was not conscious for some time."

Pyron turned his gaze back to Albus, and Albus nearly jumped out of his skin in terror that Pyron was going to vaporize him somehow.

"Your service is appreciated," said Pyron. "If you were truly the one who brought me back into the world, I owe you gratitude. Perhaps I shall leave you alive."

"Leave—what?" squeaked Albus.

"I sought to conquer the world when I lived," said Pyron. "I shall seek that ambition once more."

Albus could only mouth in disbelief. This wasn't supposed to happen. Pyron was supposed to be his to command—like Terra, Mara, and Aether had been. This didn't make any sense. Why would Wilcox have been seeking the power of the Natural Sprites if forming Pyron would end up creating a new immensely powerful enemy? Was he planning to work alongside Pyron, using Pyron's ambitions to further his own? Was he never planning to actually recombine the Sprites, and just utilize them separately? Or was he simply wrong about this one? And then there was the matter of Draxler Cordot, who had gone to great lengths to stop Pyron from conquering the world. Why would he have unleashed Pyron back on the world?

He had so many questions about this situation, but no time to answer them; in his brief silence, Pyron had set his gaze upon the other Albuses in the room.

"Why are there seven of you?" he asked flatly. "Have you been split apart as well?"

He raised his hand, and it began to glow with energy.

"No, _stop!_" screamed Albus, but Pyron had already ejected a forceful and fatal wave of burning energy—

With a cry, Alana the phoenix appeared between the Albuses and Pyron, and surrounded itself with a sphere of flame; Pyron's energy enveloped it, and was absorbed into the phoenix's wings. It then flew at him, belching white fire, but Pyron's body was unaffected by the phoenix fire just as Alana was unaffected by his.

Instead, Pyron raised his other arm, and a ferocious bolt of lightning exploded from his palm, striking Alana directly. She gave a screech, and burst apart, her ashes scattering in all directions; a baby phoenix dropped to the floor in Alana's stead, looking around and breathing heavily, waving its small wings feebly.

"STOP!" yelled Albus as Pyron raised his hand at the other Albuses again. "Stop—they won't do anything to you! We will go!"

"I know they can do nothing to me," said Pyron. "I am invincible. But all humans die. So it might as well be now." His hand glowed again.

"You said you'd let me live," pleaded Albus, growing desperate; there was an Anti-Disapparition Jinx on the premises, and all of them were trapped. "Please. Let the others live, too."

Pyron looked over to Albus, either amused or confused. "Why _did_ you help me return?" he asked. "If you did not want fiery destruction?"

Albus's eyes flickered unconsciously towards Wilcox's corpse.

Pyron followed the giveaway movement. "Ah," he said. "You wanted me to help you destroy an enemy. Well, that is done. And now you have no use for me, and I have no use for you."

"Wait!" cried Albus again, even if in vain. "Wait—no, you still need my help! I know something that could help you!"

He was floundering, he knew, but he had to keep stalling. He had to…

Unearthly moans were coming from the tunnel leading to this chamber that had been opened up during the earlier fight. Suddenly, a hoard of zombie-like creatures stormed into the tunnel, crashing like a wave upon them; Albus took out his wand and began to try striking them down, but suddenly both of Pyron's scarf-like tendrils whipped towards him and wrapped around his neck and waist, pulling him into the air. The Inferi, the Kinderaiths, and some other horrible creature combinations fell upon the other Albuses, screeching and clawing, as they were backed into a corner, trying to ward off the attack. Pyron lifted Albus directly in front of his searing-hot face.

"Explain to me why I should keep you and your friends alive," said Pyron softly, and his breath was like being bombarded with blistering steam, "and if you give me an answer that I like, then I shall keep your friends alive while I consider it. You have until they crumble under this assault to please me."

His friends were already close to being overwhelmed. Albus's brain raced like a supercomputer, processing all possible options to keep Pyron's interest using all possible information—Pyron was Azra Lamenta; he had used the Superstorm Devoctrix to become powerful; Draxler Cordot had put a stop to him, apparently using the Pandoran Catalyst—

"I know where the Pandoran Catalyst is," choked Albus.

Pyron's eyes bulged.

Instantly, he threw his arms in the air, and a blaze erupted all along the cavern floor. The undead creatures were all engulfed in the inferno, but the patch of land where Albus's friends had been standing was kept out of the fire. The fire disappeared, leaving scorched rock and bones in its wake, but every hostile creature had been incinerated. Pyron nodded his chin up, and a wall of flames rose at the entrance to the tunnel, blocking anything else from entering.

"You have my attention," said Pyron, and he released his hold from Albus's neck, though he kept his tendril around Albus's waist. "I suggest you keep it. Keep talking."

"As long as the Pandoran Catalyst is around, you won't be invincible," said Albus, his heart trying its best to give him away as he scrambled around words to give himself more time to formulate another plan. "Draxler Cordot used it to break you apart once. Wizards will find a way to do it again if you don't get rid of it. As long as you try to take over the world, they will be trying to stop—"

"Where is the Pandoran Catalyst?" interrupted Pyron tersely.

Albus gulped. A single unbelievable strand to this bluff could unravel the entire thing, and he and his friends would die painful deaths in seconds. This had to be a perfect lie. It had to be somewhere secret, somewhere related to the Devoctrices—not the Hourglass Empire, it had been _created_ with the Pandoran Catalyst—

"If you are trying to keep me pleased," said Pyron, one side of his lip curling up, "you are running out of time to do so."

Albus seized onto the word _time—_the Chronozone Devoctrix, maybe he could get more time with a Time-Turner—they were in the Ministry, in the Department of Mystery, which studied secrets of magic—maybe he could use that, as an excuse or as a way to fight back if he could get his hands on an artifact powerful enough to destroy Pyron again—

"It's in the Ministry of Magic," blurted Albus.

"What is the Ministry of Magic?" asked Pyron, cocking a brow.

"It's… the British magical government building," said Albus quietly.

As Pyron tilted his head back and roared with laughter, Albus heated up even more than he already was heated up in Pyron's presence, and he instantly regretted his rash answer.

"You are meaning to tell me that the most powerful natural magical force in history, which could be used to conquer the world in seconds, is held by a single human government?"

"Yes," said Albus, struggling to regain his tone of false confidence. "It's in the Department of Mysteries, where they study other powerful magical artifacts—"

"I think you are lying," said Pyron, "and every time I think that, I shall murder one of the humans that look like you."

"I'm not!" shouted Albus. "There are a lot of immense and unknown powers studied there—"

He ran through his memory of his father's tales about the Department of Mysteries, trying to exploit specific facts to make his story more concrete and believable.

"They study the Chronozone Devoctrix, they have Time-Turners—" but Pyron might not have known about this other Devoctrix, or what a Time-Turner was at all— "they have Gallen Ingot's body there—" but Pyron wouldn't have known who Ingot was— "he was a man who used the Pandoran Catalyst—" that might not have been true, but how would Pyron know—

"Ingot," said Pyron. "I know that name."

Albus almost asked "You do?" before he stopped himself.

"His family would have known where the Catalyst was," said Pyron. "Your story is gaining credibility. Continue."

Albus swallowed the lump in his throat, a lump made of a hundred wrong things he could say and end up causing a literal global meltdown. Other Devoctrices—would Pyron know any? There was the space room, the brain room, the death room… what were the Devoctrices studied in these? Were there hidden worlds like the Hourglass Empire, or portals—

"It's the _entrance!_" he exclaimed. "The _entrance_ to the Pandoran Catalyst is in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic! There's a portal!"

"Then bring me there," said Pyron. "Now."

_HERMAN,_ thought Albus to Alec. _Now._

_Albus, it's gone!_ came Alec's tremulous thoughts back. _The Propheteers took it!_

_Shit._

_Please tell me you have a plan,_ thought Alec to him.

_Maybe I can lose him in the Ministry,_ thought Albus back._ Maybe I can find a way to fight back. But we have nothing to go on by staying here._

"And your friends come with us," noted Pyron. "So that I can cut their throats, drink their blood, and burn their corpses in front of you if you are misleading me."

Albus twitched. "This is not a trick," he said. "But there will be people attacking us in the Ministry. Me and my friends, too—not just you. They will not want us to find the portal."

"Mortals are not an obstacle to me," said Pyron. "They all ignite so easily. Now, bring us to this Ministry."

"It's too far to teleport," said Albus.

Pyron laughed gutturally. His free tendril wrapped around Albus's forehead, and Albus felt his memories breached. He didn't attempt to resist the Devoctrix-powered mental siege, and instead allowed Pyron to access his memory of the Ministry. Albus closed his eyes, and suddenly Pyron hacked into his magic as well; he started the teleportation process, and with Pyron's power charging his teleportation, they all landed in the streets above the Ministry, none of them Splinched in the slightest.

"You can't teleport directly into the Ministry," apologized Albus. "I'm sorry—it's directly below us, we'll get there soon—"

Pyron laughed again, and from his feet a column of fire erupted, burning a hole through the street; he burned through the pavement, the concrete, the earth and rock below, and the metal ceiling of the Ministry. A hole was left below them that led directly into the Ministry interior.

Six more red ribbon-like tendrils burst forth from Pyron's back, and wrapped around the other six Albuses; holding them, he floated down through the hole, and they landed in the entryway of the Ministry.

There was an alarm already blaring, and a Ministry official ran towards them. "Excuse me, sirs, you need to check in, and we've detected Polyjuice concealment—"

He stopped and stared at the party that had just arrived.

Then, he ran off, hollering. "ALBUS POTTER IS HERE! SEVEN ALBUS POTTERS AND SATAN ARE HERE!"

"Where is the mystery department?" asked Pyron.

"Down," said Albus. "I don't know exactly how far down—"

Pyron shot a free tendril straight through the chest of a Ministry worker nearby, and lifted her up like meat on a skewer. "Where is the mystery department?" he asked the worker.

"Level Nine!" she croaked. "Second-lowest floor!"

Pyron nodded, and set her on fire from the inside; she burned to a crisp and dropped to the floor as Albus choked back vomit. Twenty wizard guards burst into the room and began casting spells at them, but Pyron caused a circle of explosions all around himself that sent everyone fleeing backwards. He melted holes through the floor again, and they descended once more, further into the depths of the Ministry, completely unhindered by the feeble attempts of the Ministry staff to stop this deity.

They dropped eight floors, and then the ceiling of the Department of Mysteries seemed impossible to melt through. Pyron growled and slammed his fingers into the metal floor, and they sank slowly; he pulled apart the ceiling with brute strength. They dropped into a dark room; with Pyron's glow, they could see scale models of all of the planets, rotating slowly around the ceiling. They were inside.

"Take me to the portal," said Pyron.

"I've never been in here myself," said Albus. He quickly added, "But I know it's here—my father has seen it, he has been in here. I'll know it when I see it. He described it to me."

He fought the urge to grimace—he'd played it by ear up to here, but how were they going to escape Pyron now that they had arrived? There was no way he was going to let them go, up until he realized Albus was lying and killed all of them. What was the plan now? Maybe just scouring the Ministry for something, anything that could help… A Time-Turner, maybe? Go back in time and stop himself from reuniting Pyron? But wouldn't that risk some awful consequences?

Well, they couldn't be more awful than the entire world's destruction. Although, if he hadn't created Pyron, Wilcox would still be in his body right now, destroying the world in Pyron's stead… And besides, Desulgon had said they couldn't change the past—it had already happened and was set in stone. Unless there was a way to hack time even deeper than Professor Desulgon had come to understand…

There wasn't time to think about this. Albus pointed at the door. "Keep going through the doors," he said. "I'll tell you when I see it." He shivered, though Pyron's tendril was hot against his skin. "And then you'll let us go. Right?"

"After I am assured the portal takes me to the proper location," said Pyron. "Yes."

It was more than likely he was lying, and was plotting to kill them the second they gave him what he needed, but they needed a different plan anyway…

Pyron melted through one of the doors in the space room. They moved into a room with numbers everywhere—the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Pieces of chalk were writing equations in thin air, and the equations were interchanging numbers and symbols with each other constantly. Some of the numbers were detaching from their equations, swirling around and forming spheres, pyramids, and other three-dimensional shapes. Balls of light swirled around their rooms, with mathematical symbols ejected from them like the tails of comets.

"Not here," said Albus, wincing; how many rooms before Pyron began to doubt? "Keep going."

The other Albuses were keeping an eye on him, showing various levels of terror and concern. Pyron drifted to the next door and melted this one down as well. Looking inside, he saw a room full of boiling magma; he did not even venture into that room, and began melting down a different door instead.

Albus's heart leapt. If they could immerse him in magma… Nothing magical could resist that substance. He would be destroyed.

Of course, it wasn't like Albus could just say "the portal is under the lava" and expect Pyron to dive right in. Was there any way they could overpower Pyron and force him in there? Without getting immediately turned to ashes?

They hovered into the next room, which had brains swimming around in tanks, tendrils of thought flowing behind them. Albus spotted something on Pyron's face—some emotion beyond his dominating presence. He seemed to be possibly just as unsettled by their surroundings as anyone else would be. The Department of Mysteries was a strange and fascinating yet also sinister and disturbing place.

They heard shouts behind them; another thing they would have to deal with was that even if they ditched Pyron somehow, the entire Ministry was aware that Albus Potter was here, and they would be after him.

"I am losing patience again," said Pyron, after they passed through the brain room and into a room with wands rotating in midair. "And I tend to murder when I am made impatient."

There were Unspeakables currently working in this room, examining wands that they were dissecting, and when they saw their unexpected company, they panicked and fled. Pyron gave Albus a dangerous look as he melted down the next door—

And Albus's every muscle seized as he saw their only chance sitting in the middle of the room, a perfect decoy to play the perfect role. Right on a raised platform was potentially one of the only things that could stop Pyron.

"There it is!" he gasped. "In the center of the room, there!"

He pointed a trembling finger at the centerpiece of the room: the barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead. The one-way street to the afterlife.

The Veil.

Pyron peered at the archway. "That is the portal to the Pandoran Catalyst?" He floated them all closer to it.

Albus silently prayed he would enter it without question. Pyron was examining it closely—too closely; he might notice that it did not seem, on closer inspection, to be what Albus was claiming that it was. Albus had to think fast again—

"I'll go through it first," he said quickly. "To prove to you that it really is the portal."

The reverse psychology had the instant desired effect. Pyron looked over to him, sneering again. "And activate the Catalyst for yourself, I suppose?"

Albus shook his head. "No. You can follow right behind me, just a second after me. I promise I am not—"

"Insolent fool," cackled Pyron. "You all are coming through the portal with me together, so I may verify your claim before I let you go. Now—"

Abruptly, Pyron then turned his head sharply to face the Veil. His nostrils flared, and his muscles tensed. Albus held back an anguished moan—what had Pyron noticed? Was the game up—was this the end of the line? Or…

"_You again!_" barked Pyron.

Albus looked into the Veil. A face was drifting towards them from the other side, a ghostly figure that Pyron seemed already to have recognized.

"How—_no!_" Pyron was seething. "How did you escape me—how did you get to the Catalyst before me?! _You will not take me again!_"

Draxler Cordot's grinning face was at the surface, just behind the curtain hanging from the arch. He whispered something inaudible, and then he turned and walked the other way, into the misty distance beyond the Veil.

Pyron roared; dropping all of the Albuses he was carrying, he coiled all of his tendrils like snakes and sprung into the Veil in pursuit of Cordot.

And he passed through the Veil entirely.

Once the curtain was back in place, the mist obscured everything on the other side. The room was silent, except for a few indistinct, ethereal whispers from behind the Veil.

"Holy crap," breathed Albus. "Holy crap."

One of the other Albuses stepped forward, and his hair flickered back to turquoise—Teddy. He clapped a hand on Albus's shoulder, and tried to steady his own breathing enough to speak to Albus.

"Brilliant," he murmured. "Absolutely brilliant. That could not have gone any more perfectly. Albus… you've done it."

Albus fell flat on his back in front of the Veil, his hands over his face. Slowly, he started to laugh in desperate relief. The others sank to the floor beside him; Teddy kept an eye on the Veil, which was dangerously close. His eyes began to water as he stared into it.

"I can't believe it," said another Albus; the real Albus had lost track of who was who long ago. "Herpo. It will take a while for Wilcox to return to a body. And Pyron, out of nowhere… but he's gone, too. Everyone."

"Are we sure Wilcox is gone?" asked yet another Albus. "Are we totally sure?"

"We saw him burned down to his bones," said a different Albus. "It was not a vague experience. His head was still there the whole time!"

"But was it an illusion?" asked a separate Albus. "Or was it someone who was Polyjuiced as him?"

"Nobody else knows he's the Man in the Shadows," said Teddy. "Everyone thinks it's Auchland. Why would they have sent someone Polyjuiced as Helio Wilcox?"

"And besides," said the actual Albus, "he'd have wanted to be there himself, to claim the Sprite for himself."

"And did you see the way he was attacking the dome of light we were in?" said an Albus that it could be assumed was Alec. "That was an absurdly powerful man. I don't know anyone else who could have done something like that."

"He still has his Horcruxes," said Albus, "but he'll have to wander as a lost soul until he finds one of his henchmen and sets up another ritual."

"Oh, my God," said Teddy. "Look."

To the other side of the Veil, three more forms were bubbling. They approached closely, clawing at the physical world, moaning indistinctly.

The first form was Herpo the Foul; though distorted and becoming more grotesque as they watched, they could see that it was him. Pyron could be seen next; he was no longer red, but looking as he would have appeared before the Devoctrices, when he was a human. When he was Azra Lamenta.

The last form drifted in close to the curtain. They could see his face clearly before it started to melt and distort.

And it was Helio Wilcox.

There was no mistaking it. If Pyron had regained the form he'd taken in his life, then everyone assumedly would regain their truest form. If it had been someone Polyjuiced into Wilcox, then they would see that person instead of Wilcox's face. But they were staring at his evil visage in front of them now, as he began to deteriorate, his outside becoming as hideous as his inside. All three villains shriveled into half their size as they drifted back into the mist on the other side of the Veil, and they disappeared.

"Is that him?" whispered Albus. "But… that would mean that… if he's through the Veil, shouldn't that mean he's… _dead?_"

"Did someone already take out the Horcruxes for us?" asked Alec. "That's definitely Wilcox past there!"

"It could be just one part of the soul," said Albus. "But that would mean one of the pieces has already been destroyed—which means Wilcox has either one Horcrux left or no Horcruxes left! And if he really is completely gone…" He looked around. "I'm still here. But, the prophecy… Both prophecies. One said a son of Potter had to die, and one said _I specifically_ had to die… Did we just defy them both?"

He looked over at the others—but they weren't looking at him, or at the Veil anymore. They were looking at Teddy, who had again pulled out his scroll, the one he used to receive orders that Wilcox gave his followers.

"There's an order being given," said Teddy. "From the Man in the Shadows."

Albus started. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Teddy. "It's the same handwriting as always. This is the handwriting Wilcox uses when he wants to personally send a message."

"Is it being written now? Or was it written a while ago?"

"It's being written now," said Teddy, his face paler than the Veil. "It says that Herpo is defeated and they need all available fighters to report back to the Ministry… to take down Albus Potter, who has invaded. It's signed by Wilcox. He's not gone yet!"

"But he can't be back in a body _yet?!_" cried Albus.

"Can we Apparate out?" asked Alec.

Teddy shook his head. "It won't work in here," he said. "We have to get outside of the Ministry to use any form of teleportation!"

And then a Patronus flew into the Death Chamber—a silver sea snake, Eftan's Patronus. It writhed frantically in the air, and Eftan's voice rang out into the chamber.

"Albus—they've found me out! I need a safe place, get your mirror out so we can talk!"

Albus threw his bag down. "_Accio Mirror!_" he said.

"I don't know if we have time for this!" hissed Teddy, pointing at the melted door to the Death Chamber; lights and voices were approaching.

Albus ignored Teddy. "Eftan Griffiths!" he shouted at the mirror.

Upon saying Eftan's name, the image of his friend—and his half-brother—appeared in the mirror Eftan had given him. Eftan seemed to be running through a hall of some sort, with dozens of empty shelves.

"Albus," huffed Eftan. "Where are you right now?"

"In the Ministry," said Albus. "Set up defensive spells and wait for us; we'll be breaking free soon and we'll come for you!"

"So you _are_ in the Ministry? That's not just a diversion?"

"I'm here," said Albus. "Long story, but—"

"But I already know the story," said Eftan. "The Sprites. Pyron. And you killed Wilcox somehow. Very clever."

Eftan had stopped running. The shelves that he was standing in front of were not empty like the ones he had been passing earlier—they held dusty glass orbs.

Prophecies.

Albus stared in horror into the mirror; Eftan adjusted the angle of the mirror, and a different set of faces stared back into his own.

Six faces of Albus Potter.

Albus looked up from his mirror. Eftan was standing at a different entrance to the Death Chamber. His face was vacant and expressionless.

"No," whispered Albus, knowing what this meant. A man walked into view behind Eftan.

It was Helio Wilcox—with his entire body back already.

"But your plan failed to account for one thing," said Wilcox, as Ministry guards swarmed in behind him. "The thing is, I like to think I'm just like you in this way: Fucking impossible to kill." He raised a wand to Eftan's neck. "Your half-brother, however… Very easy to control his mind. And to kill him. Shall I prove it?"

Albus's eyes streamed with tears as he stared at Wilcox and Eftan. He gripped his wand tightly, but he didn't know if there was anything he could do at this point.

"Give yourself up, Potter," he said. "I don't have to hunt your family down. They are a great and respected magical family. They will thrive in the new world." He snatched the mirror from Eftan's hands, and the image in Albus's mirror faded away when the other mirror was no longer held by Eftan. Wilcox held the mirror up by his head. "Say my name, Potter."

Albus stood in stunned silence.

"Say my name in the next three seconds or I will airmail you your half-brother's brains," said Wilcox. "I know you're the one holding the mirror. Polyjuice cannot protect anyone from me. Say it now."

"Helio Wilcox," said Albus quietly.

The mirror flashed, and showed Wilcox's face.

"Yes, I'm very much alive," said Wilcox, descending down the steps of the room, closing the distance between them. "If that's satisfactory proof enough for you that I am who I say I am… then I have a proposition for you: I will let your family and friends live, if you lay down your life for me right now." He flashed a revolting grin. "Now, I know what you're thinking: villains will always say that, and they'll renege on their promises. So let me set the record straight here."

Obydin Auchland stepped forward next, out of the shadows behind the melted door, and followed Wilcox down a few steps. Lynwood Chinch was right behind him, and Chinch raised his wand as Auchland and Wilcox joined hands.

"Will you promise," said Auchland, "that you, and all of the people who work on your behalf, will leave every remaining Potter and Weasley alive, and leave all of Albus's remaining friends and close acquaintances alive, and promise that they will not be mind-controlled, enslaved, imprisoned, or harmed in any way by you or anyone who works on your behalf, once Albus allows you to kill him or is otherwise proven dead?"

"I will," said Wilcox.

A tendril of flame spewed from Chinch's wand and wound itself tightly like a chain around Wilcox's and Auchland's arms—he was making the Unbreakable Vow. Albus's stomach turned a thousand times over.

"And do you swear that you are, indeed, the same Helio Wilcox, who orchestrated the takeover of the Ministry, who calls all the shots, who plans to destroy all Muggles, and who has been behind so many deaths already thus far—and that you, as Helio Wilcox, guarantee the end of any and all persecution of Albus's friends and family by your forces, if he meets your previous demand of giving up his life?"

"I do."

Another tendril of flame slid from Chinch's wand, forming an intertwined chain with the first.

"And will you, as long as Albus is anything but dead, continue to hunt and murder his family and friends, one by one, until Albus finally does find himself deceased?"

Wilcox grinned happily. "I will."

The third strand joined the chain, and they glowed brightly, like fiery dancing snakes.

Once the strings of fire faded, Wilcox threw Eftan's mirror to the ground, and it shattered. He turned and faced Albus again, and cocked his head. "So," he said. "What will it be? Will you turn and walk through that Veil after Pyron, and allow all of your friends to walk out of here without scratches? Or will you continue to defy me? Please be aware: if you try to escape, we will be aiming to capture you alive. That way, we can hunt, torture, and kill all your family and friends while we keep you alive, so that we don't break the vow because you aren't dead yet. _Then_ we'll kill you after everyone you love is dead." He smiled sickeningly again. "I take it the first option is more attractive."

Albus looked him in the eye. Wilcox was promising to do _nothing_ to his family—not take over their minds, or capture them, or hurt them at all. And Albus's final plan had failed. He had not gotten the power of Pyron—he had just eliminated it entirely from this world, in fact. He had no more plans, no more cleverness. His part in the fight was over. He had almost nothing left.

All he had left now was the power to save everyone else.

He figured he should walk into the Veil immediately and without hesitation; any hesitation might affect his resolve. The more he thought about it, the more it terrified him to leave the fight up to everyone else. But his friends could go on. He'd left them all with everything he knew.

He was just about to turn around when Wilcox cleared his throat.

"Perhaps, in the interest of assisting your decision," he said, "I should remind you what's at stake, and what you can prevent today." He raised his wand up to Eftan's head.

Albus screamed. "NO—"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Eftan was dealt the killing blow directly into his head. He collapsed in a limp heap on the ground. Albus turned around to see, faintly through the Veil, Eftan's spirit drifting gently away, slowly disappearing into the fog.


	20. Eyes for an Eye

_**The pace has been breakneck speed, I know. This chapter is too. Next chapter you'll finally have a breather.**_

_**End date of the series: Last chapter will be uploaded in just five days, on August 11... Also known as the four-year anniversary of the day that the very first chapter of Albus Potter and the Global Revelation was published! You'll be getting at least two chapters a day until then.**_

_**Though it hasn't really been happy lately, and might not be for a while... Happy reading. :)**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY

EYES FOR AN EYE

O

Albus's heart sank to the lowest depths it had experienced since he had believed his father was dead. He fell to his knees on the cold stone floor of the Death Chamber, and he started to shake as Eftan's limp arm slid down and thumped beside his body.

There was only one thing to do. He had to walk through the Veil.

He had spent so long running already, trying to preserve his own life because he had knowledge of how to defeat Wilcox that not many other people knew. Well, now everyone else in this room had that knowledge, too. And he could either risk everyone dying, or he could let six out of seven survive.

There was the matter of the prophecy, of course, about defeating Wilcox… but if he did this now, they would have to leave James alive. His brother would still be around to fulfill the prophecy that a son of Harry Potter would destroy Wilcox… And if Albus died here by Wilcox's arrangements, he knew his brother well enough to know that James would stop at nothing to avenge his little brother.

Before Albus turned around to face the Veil, he swallowed his grief and fury, and looked around at his friends and family here.

"_This_ one," he said to all of them, "is my decision alone."

He could sense them wanting to speak, to talk him out of it, searching for reasons why he shouldn't do it. But they also understood their situation. And they knew that there was only one way for most of them to walk out of this. Still, he could see them wracking their brains to find some other way, some other grand plan for them to squirm out of this.

There was none. Albus turned, and stepped closer and closer to the Veil.

There it was—the single curtain that separated him from this one-way trip, gently wafting, almost hitting his shoes. There were no safety nets, no tethers to life that could bring him back. This was it. But it wouldn't be so bad, would it? Just a little step.

Just the next step.

He was having trouble working up the courage, though. It was so much more than dipping a toe in a cold swimming pool. He vaguely remembered something he had that could help him in a situation like this… the Eucoeur, which Janelle had given him. What had she written on the note?

_Should there ever be a time when you do not feel you can continue, when carrying on seems impossible, crack the crystal. You will be filled with instant memories of all of the love which has ever entered your life, without any of the hate. The love will surround you, empower you, and remind you what you are living for, what you are fighting for._

Although in this case, it would remind him of the reason he had to _leave_ the fight.

He stalled for a moment, unsure if he should aim his wand at Aidan's bag to get the Eucoeur; Wilcox might think he was up to something, and could start attacking his friends. He dropped his own bag to the floor, so his friends could take it with them when they left. He gripped his wand, ready to Summon the Eucoeur—

But a harsh whisper caught his ears first. It was like someone was trying to scream through a raging storm. He peered back into the Veil, squinting to try and get a better glimpse. One more form was surging towards the curtain.

Dalton Desulgon appeared out of the mist, just a few feet behind the curtain.

He was fighting to get even closer, like he was battling a strong wind. He was making his way towards the surface of the Veil—_was he trying to get out?_

But he stopped before he reached the curtain. He stood his ground near the entry with difficulty, and he began waving frantically. He was shaking his head _no_ rigorously.

No? What was he trying to communicate? That he didn't want Albus to walk through the Veil?

Desulgon was still shaking his head _no_ as he held up his hands. On his right hand, he held up two fingers; on the left, he held up three.

Twenty-three. The Devoctrices.

Desulgon pointed back and forth between himself and Albus, and held up two fingers on both hands. Twenty-two. He and Albus knew twenty-two Devoctrices.

Then, he pointed behind Albus, towards Wilcox, and held up the two and three again.

Wilcox knew the twenty-third Devoctrix.

Albus's throat closed up, and his breath became ragged. What was the twenty-third Devoctrix? Something that changed the situation here? Something that could let him escape an Unbreakable Vow…?

Desulgon was shouting something, but it only came through as the sound of whistling wind through a cracked window. He switched back to his hand signals. He pointed to Wilcox, and held up one finger. He pointed inside the Veil and held up two fingers. Then he made a wild gesture all around him and held up three.

Albus tried to communicate that he still didn't understand, by squinting and making a confused face. and Desulgon repeated the gesture. Pointing to Wilcox. One. Pointing into the Veil. Two. Pointing… all around him. Three.

Wilcox was the first of something. Death, or the Veil, was the number two. Everywhere else was third. No, that didn't make sense…

"The more time you take," said Wilcox, "the more time I have to start killing the rest of these Albuses. You may want to step it up… and step in _now._"

Desulgon shook his head no again. He held up one hand and began making shapes with it. He curled it like a crab claw… then held his hand straight up but with his thumb out… then a circle… then he used both of his hands to make a letter N—a capital E—he was spelling something out—

Desulgon started over. The crab claw was a C. Then there was an L… an O… an N… and an E.

Dread seized Albus like never before. Any fear of Wilcox was instantly at least doubled, because… there was more than one Wilcox. The one standing in front of him was one of them. The one Pyron had killed was a _clone_ of Wilcox. And there was a _third Wilcox_ somewhere out there.

_That_ was the twenty-third Devoctrix that Wilcox had worked so hard to keep a secret. He had cloned himself—it was his secret weapon, that even if they managed to defeat him… no matter how many times they killed him, it could just be a clone.

Wilcox wouldn't stop killing Albus's friends and family just because one of his clones had made the Unbreakable Vow. He would gladly give up one of his clones for the assurance of Albus's demise. He had at least one other entire backup body, and could possibly even clone himself again.

Desulgon looked like he was about to communicate something else important, but he suddenly stumbled and was ripped away from the curtain as if inside a tornado. He was gone, leaving Albus trembling with the understanding.

_No,_ thought Albus. _No… Don't leave, Professor Desulgon! What should I do now… What am I supposed to…_

But then again, Desulgon hadn't left Albus with nothing. He'd left Albus with a lot of knowledge.

"_Entrain,_" whispered Albus, and he felt the power in his wand begin to charge. He pictured in his head a giant slingshot, pulled back with all seven Albuses as its ammunition. The slingshot in his imagination was aimed at the open door.

"What was that?" asked Wilcox. "Whatever you're muttering to yourself, those had better be your last words. You have ten seconds. Or I start killing."

_Alec,_ thought Albus in desperation, to the only person he could communicate with in silence, from the Connectivity Charm Alec had cast on him right before Pyron arrived. _Wilcox has clones._

_He WHAT?!_

_Just telling you. In case I don't make it out of here. Can you do a gravity spell? Switch the gravity of a room?_

_Yes! Do you want me to do it now?_

_When I yell my own spell, yell yours. And aim the new direction of gravity to be towards the Veil. Trust me._

_I trust you one hundred percent._

Wilcox raised his wand.

"_END!_" bellowed Albus.

"_TOPTURVIA!_" bellowed Alec.

All seven Albuses were slung as if they'd been fired out of a cannon, straight at the melted door into the Death Chamber. At the same time, the gravity of the room shifted violently, and all of Wilcox's forces began toppling towards the Veil. Most of them caught their falls and clung to the floor, but two of them gave agonized screams before slipping through the Veil, with their screams becoming whispers.

The seven Albuses tumbled into the next room, where gravity was normal, and they stood up to run. Albus looked back for a moment to see Wilcox reach into the neck of his robes and pull out a crystal at the end of a necklace; he then righted himself and began running as if gravity was completely normal.

Albus turned back around; there was another group of fighters waiting at the next door, and at the forefront was Red Pierce. He was almost unrecognizable through angry scars from the explosion of the Shadow's Engine that he'd suffered last year, but his ugly aura was highly recognizable.

Pierce gave an angry snarl and sprinted in pursuit. Albus and his friends scattered into various areas of the cavernous room, filled with different kinds of wands undergoing different experiments, and rows upon rows of shelves. Teddy diverted towards Albus, and cast a Connectivity Charm on him quickly. _So we don't lose each other,_ he thought as he ducked down the aisle of a row of shelves containing boxes wands like in Ollivander's shop. _Try to separate the fighters and pick them off individually! And don't automatically trust anyone looking like you, until they cast a Patronus!_

Albus turned a corner, encountering some deeper experiments back here. One wand was burning in Frostflame. Looking for too long at some other experiments, he bumped into a pedestal. It held a wand on a pillow, with the label _H.V.W._ on a steel plate on the pedestal.

A Ministry guard witch rounded the corner. "_Stupefy!_" yelled Albus immediately.

The guard deflected the spell easily, but did not expect the unmanned wand on the pedestal to also fire a Stunning Spell at the same time; it clipped her in the elbow and she fell to the floor. Albus snapped her wand in half and then grabbed up the "H.V.W." from the pedestal, in case it was useful later.

Another set of experiments caught his eye—_Elder Wands_ was the label on the set of pedestals. He wanted to test them all out and see if anything was as good as the Elder Wand his father possessed, but there wasn't time; plus, the Department of Mysteries might not be the best place to nick a wand, in case it had some other terrifying effect from the experiments conducted here. Considering that, actually, he opted to toss the H.V.W. wand back into the room. Three wizards appeared in pursuit behind him, and he turned a corner, cursing the podiums to fly at the guards.

_I've managed to cast Connectivity Charms with everyone!_ came Teddy's voice. _Converge in the Magma Chamber! Victoire says she has a plan!_

Sorely relieved that he didn't have to be the one with the plan, Albus tapped into renewed strength, and sprinted into the next room, the Brain Room—

Wilcox was already standing there, next to Auchland. Albus gave a yelp and propelled himself with a Jumping Charm across the room as the spells began to fly. He fired off an array of Reductor Curses at the brain tanks, and they shattered, sending the brains on a wave headed for Wilcox and Auchland. In their distraction, Albus cast a spell that launched the waves behind them up higher and froze them solid, enhancing the ice with a few spells that might take them longer to break through.

As he turned around to face the door, though, Wilcox was feet away, already firing off a spell.

He had almost forgotten that users of the Devoctrices had found ways to Apparate where others could not—likely the Magimorph Devoctrix, which allowed them to access other types of magic, and possibly Apparate in a different style of magic, like house-elf.

Albus hit the floor, and then used a wandless energy burst to slide him back across the icy floor as a spell shattered the floor where his head had been a second ago. He raised up his wand, and the perfect spell for the situation struck his mind. "_Juxtapos!_"

He switched places with Wilcox, and while his enemy took a second to readjust himself, Albus had already blasted the door open and proceeded into the next room. In preparation for the next confrontation, he shouted, "_Entrain!_" and pictured a hundred more Albuses running frantically around him.

It was an empty room, except for a table on which there were five goblets. In each goblet was not a fluid, but a shimmering orb of light. There was also a shimmering glass eye on the table; it turned to watch Albus as he ran. Albus looked back at it for a second but tore his gaze away, feeling wholly unsettled. The floor lit up wherever he stepped; there was a mostly light-blue glow with some violet mixed in. Wilcox rushed through the door behind him, and where Wilcox stepped, there were violet-black glows.

An open room was not an ideal setting to be fleeing Wilcox; he needed more obstacles. He shouted, "_End!_" and then blasted apart every other door in the room.

The _Entrain_ spell hadn't had enough time to charge; there weren't one hundred images of Albus running around the room like he'd pictured, but there were a good dozen, sprinting in various directions towards various doors of whatever room this was. Wilcox let loose a flurry of Killing Curses, but he only hit illusions. They stayed intact, although the quality of the illusions were deteriorating fast, and Wilcox seemed to pick up on it, as all of his subsequent spells were aimed at Albus.

Albus sprinted into the next room—another large, mostly empty room, and he cursed inwardly. There were Unspeakables working here, as well, at desks; they were ducked behind the desks, but Albus could sense their auras. He lifted the desks with Levitation Charms, and then fired off a couple of Imperius Curses, striking both of them. They both grabbed up wands and prepared to fight Wilcox.

Albus tried to bust down one of the doors, but it was sealed shut tightly. He couldn't waste time getting past it, so he turned to another door in the room and blasted it open, as Wilcox entered the room. Without hesitation, he Apparated behind the Unspeakables and fired Killing Curses into both of their backs, and then he Apparated right next to Albus.

Albus was expecting it and was already in the process of casting simultaneous Stunners to either side, but Wilcox parried the one that was aimed at him. Albus deflected two following spells from Wilcox, and with a kick of wandless energy, he sent Wilcox head over heels into the ceiling—

But Wilcox Apparated again, and a Stunner hit Albus in the back of the knee.

"Pity," scoffed Wilcox. "I thought you were selfless enough to at least not let _every single friend and family member_ die on your behalf…"

Wilcox whirled around to deflect a spell flying at him from another newly opened door, as another two Albuses raced in to defend the real Albus. But then Caradoc Slade, a former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister who had murdered Geri Stenet, Stunned both of the Albuses from behind as he entered the room behind them.

"Is that the real one?" asked Slade, sheathing his wand, walking in close and pointing at Albus.

"Yes," said Wilcox, Stunning Albus again for good measure; the blow left him wheezing with internal convulsions. "Take a sizeable guard and transport him to—"

Slade had lunged out and grabbed Wilcox's wand, ripped it from his grip and flung it across the room. At the same time, the two Albuses who had apparently been Stunned jumped up on their feet and started casting spells again—Teddy had disguised himself as Slade and designed a ruse to catch Wilcox off-guard.

Wilcox was supremely talented with wandless magic as well, though; he was actually Dissipating the spells aimed at him. He reached his hand out and his wand zoomed towards him; Teddy whipped up a windstorm that sent the wand flying back into the previous room, and then one of the fake Albuses revived the actual Albus Potter.

Knowing that being wandless against four adversaries was too much even for him, Wilcox created a wall of glossy energy behind him as he fled. Teddy reached for Albus and they ran into the room from which Teddy and the others had come. _Stay in the center of the room!_ thought Teddy, transforming himself back into looking like Albus. _This next room could have permanent effects if you misstep into the experiments!_

They ran into the Time Room.

It was much better lit than the other rooms. The light was coming from a bell jar from the far end, sparkling with silvery and golden light from a glittering wind blowing within. Just as he'd remembered his father saying, there was a hummingbird inside, living through all of the stages of its life, forward to the end of its life as a bird and then backward to the beginning of its life as an egg. There were clocks on every surface, large and small, grandfather clocks and watches even Muggle digital alarm clocks, ticking and beeping. And there was a glass-fronted case that was falling to the ground and smashing, then rising back up and mending itself, then smashing itself again—he recalled this from his father's story as well. That meant it had been shattering and reforming for over a quarter century already. There were some instruments directed at the shelves, taking measurements of the temporal phenomenon occurring there.

But right behind them was another attacking party, led by Red Pierce. And another group of guards ran through the doors on the other end.

_We've got to make a cut!_ thought Albus, and he diverted his course to the left, through the maze of desks, machines, and measuring equipment all around the Time Room. He cast charms to clear a path through the center of the room, and the other three Albuses followed him. The spells flying in pursuit of them were dangerously close, and two of them shattered vials that were sitting on nearby desks.

_The others are in the room with the numbers! _came Teddy's call._ That's the room next to the Magma Chamber. We've got to hurry—we've got to make sure all of us get there at around the same time, so we can all escape together!_

_Divert back towards the path!_ thought Albus, clearing out the junk to their right to get back to the path. _We'll have to force our way through the guards._

_Everyone!_ commanded Teddy inwardly. _Prepare to fire off simultaneous Swelling Charms at the center of the floor right in front of the hostiles. It'll heave them all into the air and clear the door, and I'll gouge us a tunnel through the center of the bulge that it will create._

But just then, a green curse flew right past Albus's ear and just over Teddy's head, so close that if Teddy had been his usual height, he would have been killed. A Ministry guard had slipped under the desks, intercepting their path and lying in wait for them. He began firing off multiple Stunners; Albus leaped out of the way with his lingering Jumping Charm from earlier, but he then had to let loose a pulse of energy from his feet to redirect his path as he realized his mistake—jumping so high in the air in isolation, he made himself plainly visible to the other guards in the room, and they shot off spells at him like target practice on a Fanged Frisbee.

Too late, he realized that he was crashing into something he probably shouldn't have gone anywhere near. He was headed straight into a glass tube on the far wall, where the silvery-golden wind was blowing like it was in the bell jar with the hummingbird; except instead of blowing around in circles in the jar, it was flowing slowly in one direction through the pipe. He slammed into it hard, and the pipe cracked; a spell that was fired by one of the guards finished the job, shattering the pipe, and the contents of the pipe began pouring out into the room, directly onto Albus. It didn't feel like anything substantial, but he could feel his skin prickling under it.

He stood up, but he was disoriented from the impact and his reactions were terribly slow. The guards sensed that one of Albus's group was separated and could be easily picked off, and Albus saw Pierce and the other guards leap high into the air in pursuit. They landed next to him, all of them preparing to fire off spells, and how was he going to dodge them all—

But suddenly, he felt something bubbling up from within.

_No,_ he commanded inwardly, but the urge was overpowering—his body knew that it was either him or them. Completely out of control, his mouth wrenched open, and out poured the Chaos Contagion.

It spread in front of him like a blanket, shielding him from the barrage of curses that flew in his direction. And then, the Contagion darted like a striking viper, shattering Red Pierce's Shield Charm and pouring itself down his throat, ears, nose, eyes—

It was no less than that piss stain of a person deserved, but it was still a horrific fate to experience someone undergoing. The Contagion tapered off, and the other guards looked stricken with terror but set themselves to attack again. Not a second later, though, he felt the urge again—what was going on?! His mouth was wrenched open again, and the Chaos Contagion flowed forth again—the guards scattered. The Contagion pursued them, but Albus wouldn't have more destruction on his hands than he needed; he concentrated to force the Contagion to turn back towards Pierce instead of destroying yet another person's mind, who could have been innocent and simply under mind control. The Contagion rammed itself into Pierce again, and then just as quickly as it ended, it started again.

He tried to wrack his brain for an explanation to this, and then he realized: time. The flow of time was pouring over him like a thick coating of honey, and it was accelerating his relative time. With months passing in his biological clock, the Chaos Contagion was rushing out of him again and again, and the more times it happened, the closer he came to eternal insanity.

But he couldn't move; he was outside of his body while the Contagion continued to temporarily take him over, time after time. He was immobile whenever the Contagion seized him, and it was happening over and over again without rest. Ten times, a dozen times—he couldn't remember how many anymore, but he knew he had already used the Chaos Drain several times now, and so the number of times he'd let loose the Chaos Contagion had already been fairly high. He didn't have much time left before he reached twenty-three total, and his mind was lost for good—

A rope snapped around his ankle, and he was pulled away, out of the accelerated time stream, by one of the Albuses; he had cast a rope from a wand that looked like it was Teddy's.

As the last drips of the time stream flowed off of him, Albus felt a horrible shiver at the top his spine. As he broke out into a cold sweat, the shiver traveled slowly down his body, stopping his heart, then clamping his lungs shut, then turning his stomach. He was left even more breathless than when he couldn't breathe during the Chaos Contagion's overhaul of his bodily functions, and he gasped for air as he was pulled along the floor, wracked with chilling convulsions. He knew what this meant; these were the Shivers, which meant that his Hellcrawler was close. The creature that had become attracted to Albus from the scent of how much danger he was always in—it was headed for him, and if it caught him, it would tear out his soul and lay its eggs inside. But it wasn't the speediest creature, so how had it gotten so close, considering that he was always on the move?

Of course—the time stream. Just as it had accelerated the Chaos Contagion, it had accelerated his Hellcrawler. Albus looked around, hoping that it wasn't anywhere nearby.

All of the guards in the room had fled—they had no idea what was happening, but they knew it was not good, and that they had no defense against it. Their path was clear to the next room, except—

The Hellcrawler was on its way slowly towards them, half dog and half man, black and emaciated, stretching out its gaunt paws as it crawled closer, and Albus was being dragged straight into its path by Teddy's rope. No one could see it but the person it was chasing, and Teddy was unknowingly about to pull Albus straight into its clutches.

Albus tried to control his body, to shout or contort out of the way, but he was motionless with the aftereffects of the Chaos Contagion and the Shivers.

_TEDDY!_ he screamed into the Connectivity connection, so forcefully that he saw Teddy duck his head, startled. _TEDDY—HELLCRAWLER—JUMP!_

_What?!_

_JUMP, HIGH, NOW!_

Teddy had understood the urgency and was already casting a Jumping Charm on himself, and he leapt up in the air; he yanked Albus in a high arc, just over the Hellcrawler's outstretched paw. As they passed over it, it slowly reached further upwards, but missed him by inches; Albus's head, closest to the creature, felt like he was passing in front of an open freezer, as its cold aura washed over him. They landed close to the door, and the other two Albuses in front teamed up to blast it open.

"Where are you going?!"

Red Pierce's manic voice was followed by a burst of uncontrollable giggling. Albus looked around, finally getting control of his body back, and he saw a giddy-looking Pierce charging in their direction. He was insane, but still apparently held his base motivations.

"Don't leave yet!" cackled Pierce as he ducked and dodged spells from Albus's wand. "We still need to have some fun!"

As they ran through the next door, Albus was finally back in control of his movements. He severed Teddy's rope, and leapt to his feet so Teddy didn't have to pull him anymore. They passed through a room bathed in red light, filled with only a few random-seeming artifacts—a bird resembling a phoenix that was sitting on a perch on the ceiling, and a bureau in the corner.

As they traveled inward, Albus's rage at Pierce soared to a peak; as Pierce whooped and laughed aloud while continuing to dodge, Albus's face screwed up in fury. "_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" shouted Albus.

Pierce jumped high to avoid the spell, eyes bulging, then tumbled to the floor.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" screamed Teddy. "DO YOU WANT TO DESCEND TO THE ENEMY'S LEVEL? DO YOU WANT TO RUIN YOUR SOUL?!"

"JUST KEEP RUNNING!" roared Albus in return. "_CRUCIO!_"

This spell hit Pierce as he was standing back up, and Pierce writhed in agony on the floor. As they kept running through the room, the red light flashed into blue—

Suddenly, a wave of remorse and pity washed over him, and he burst into tears. How could he possibly have wanted to _kill_ someone? He had been entirely ready to take a life—

"Albus, I'm so sorry," cried Teddy, and his tears were also flowing. "I didn't mean to—it's not your—"

Then, the light in the room flashed yellow. Albus brightened up instantly as he realized what was going on. "It's _emotions!_" he cried out. "This is a room where they study emotions. How wonderfully fascinating!"

The bureau in the corner was shaking. As they passed it, the door abruptly burst open, and an angry-looking man stepped out of it—

"Hey, look!" said Teddy cheerfully. "It's Wilcox. Cool!"

Something inside of him was freaking out, but on the outside, Albus smiled. "Neat. I wonder how he got into that wardrobe?"

Teddy was closest to Wilcox, and he gave Wilcox a thumbs-up as they passed. As Albus ran past, Wilcox suddenly began shimmering, and then his features began distorting. His body broke down, but reformed back into Wilcox. Then, the light in the room flashed to green.

"Oh, ew," said Albus, crinkling his nose in disgust. "That's actually a boggart."

"Gross," said Teddy, blasting open the door to the next room.

They were back in the space-inspired room, outside of the room that was messing with their emotions. There was a hole in the ceiling, through which the rest of the Ministry loomed—it was where Pyron had entered, carrying them all. And in their navigation towards the Death Chamber with the Veil, they had passed the Magma Chamber on the way…

Fully in control of his mind again, Albus pointed. "The melted door!" he shouted, and indeed, the door through which Pyron had soared was melted down. It led to the room with the numbers all around, and one of the melted doors in that room led to the Magma Chamber…

Behind them, Pierce leaped through the door next, tumbling in front of them and cutting off their path. He raised something in his hand—not a wand, but a bowling-ball shaped object.

"Time to stop the chase," he giggled. "Or I drop the ball and kill us all!" He waved the object around, and almost dropped it; he caught it again with a relieved little chortle. "I'm _the bomb,_ aren't I?"

Teddy cringed. _I know that thing,_ he thought to Albus and the others. _It really is a bomb. It was developed for Aurors who are cornered and have no way out… for them to take the enemy out as well as themselves, when they go! He's serious!_

Albus looked around. There were objects drifting in orbit around the model sun, passing by them. Not just planets, but also some random-seeming objects. Was there anything in this room they could use? If they cast a spell, he might drop the bomb, but if they could find some other way to launch an unexpected attack… He looked around at all of the satellites drifting around them. A box with a much larger inside than outside, several planet models, a small machine with its own tiny moons—

And gently drifting towards Pierce was a large, towering mirror with an empty frame.

Pierce turned around, sensing something approaching behind him. He looked into the empty mirror, and gasped.

"Asher?" whispered Pierce in a shaky voice—the name of his dead brother, whom he was seeing inside the Mirror of Erised, and Albus recalled that the mirror wasn't empty; it was only empty when Albus looked at it, because he had destroyed its power over him when he escaped.

Pierce, not in his right mind, reached a hand forward and touched the surface of the mirror, gazing longingly at the image of his brother within.

Instantly, the mirror's dark surface lunged out and engulfed him, and it sucked him down like a ship under a tidal wave. The bomb entered with him, and he vanished completely, not appearing on the other side and not visible from this side. Then, from within, there was the faint sound of a massive explosion.

Albus watched tentatively. The mirror drifted slowly away, apparently unaffected, leaving no trace of Pierce or the bomb.

"Come on!" he shouted, and they ran through the melted door.

"There it is!" shouted Teddy, pointing at a door across the way, from which a soft, red-orange glow was emanating—the Magma Chamber. Inside, it wasn't just a pool of molten rock—the pool was actually a massive cauldron, with about a fifty foot diameter, filled with magma. It was made of some kind of metal that could withstand the extreme heat; the lava was flowing slowly in a whirlpool inside the cauldron.

As they ran inside the chamber, they encountered three more Albuses. Teddy quickly directed his wand at them, but shortly afterwards he lowered it; Albus guessed that Teddy had confirmed their identity through the Connectivity Charm.

_Everybody ready?!_ confirmed Teddy.

"Levitation Charm—on the cauldron holding the magma!" shouted Victoire. "GO!"

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" came all seven voices, directed at the cauldron that took up most of the room.

The cauldron lifted up, creaking with the immense weight, but it didn't rupture; Victoire breathed a sigh of relief that it worked. They couldn't control the magma if it burst out of the containment, but they could control the container that it was held in.

The cavernous Magma Chamber had a high ceiling, and they lifted up the cauldron until it was about ten feet off the ground. "Hold it there for a while!" called Victoire, as more guards appeared at the door, and she blasted down the wall above the door; rocks tumbled down between them and the guards, then sealed them with a few quick spells. It would take a while for the guards to work their way past it—just enough time for Victoire's plan, whatever it was, to possibly take effect.

Victoire then turned to the gaping hole where the cauldron of magma had been exhumed, and she cast a spell to raise up a platform of stone in the center of the gap. She jumped onto the platform, hovering above the gap, her head only a few feet under the giant cauldron of lava.

"Jump here with me!" she yelled, and the others jumped with her; the weight was too much for just one person, and Albus took out a second wand and cast another Levitation Charm on the hovering platform to help take the weight off of her. She nodded a thank-you at him. As the stones blocking the doorway began to rumble, signifying that their adversaries were breaking through, she shouted one last command: "_Reducio!_"

The cauldron began to shrink—but its contents, the magma, could not affected by the spell. As the cauldron shrank slowly, the magma spilled over the sides of the cauldron, wrapping around the hovering platform completely in a three hundred and sixty degree curtain on every side. It started to fill in the trench where the cauldron had sat.

"Perfect!" shouted Victoire. "Now, everyone, quickly—get together! We're Apparating out of here!"

"But we can't inside the Ministry!" said one of the other Albuses.

"Just try it!"

All seven of their party backed in close, until they were all touching each other. The magma cauldron above them was still shrinking, still spilling over all sides, and the magma below was rising up, almost reaching their platform. Victoire turned in place, and suddenly they were sucked up through the familiar tube of Apparition.

The proximity of the magma had drenched them in unbearable heat—but all of a sudden, the heat vanished, replaced by a pleasant coolness in still air. They were now standing inside a shop—a joke shop, by the looks of it. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? It looked smaller… Maybe they were in the WWW branch in Dillied Alley, the smaller version of Diagon Alley.

"How did we teleport out?!" asked one of the Albuses.

"When the lava was cascading all around us," explained Victoire, "we were encased on all sides. We had the flowing lava on our sides, the cauldron of lava was the source above us, and the lava filled in below. It made a completely airtight seal. So, I figured… Magma blocks all magic. Since we were completely wrapped inside a coating of lava in all directions, the spells cast to prevent you from teleporting out of the Ministry couldn't get inside our curtain of lava to stop us teleporting! But even though the lava surrounded us in all three dimensions, teleporting takes you into a _higher_ dimension, so we could skirt around the magma."

"Brilliant," breathed Teddy.

Albus noted a familiar aura inside the shop, though it seemed to be empty. The aura was in a different room, a back office, but it was moving towards a door—

The door opened, and Albus's Uncle Lance peered out. "Albus!" he exclaimed joyfully. "And Albus… and Albus… and Albus… and Albus… and Albus… and Albus! How good to see you, and seven times at once! I'm glad you know you're welcome here—any time you need to hide out, this place is here for you."

Lance Rutherford wasn't Albus's real uncle; just a distant cousin of the Weasleys. But he had been close to Grandma Weasley's brothers, who had been important fighters in the Order of the Phoenix, and he had himself aided in the fight against Gallen Ingot. He was probably trustworthy enough, but then again, they had been wrong before on these sorts of points…

_Just in case?_ asked Albus to Teddy.

_Just in case,_ agreed Teddy, and he raised his wand. "_Imperio._"

"Oh, if you insist," said Lance, rolling his eyes, and then he was struck by the curse; he stood up straight and wandered back into his office room, shutting the door behind him.

"What now?" asked one of the Albuses; their Polyjuice also started to wear off, and as the hair on this Albus's head turned puffy and blonde, Albus could see that it was Cynthia Birchbaum speaking. "That didn't go _quite_ as planned…"

"At least Herpo is gone," said Alec. "He was a real thorn in our side, or, like, a chainsaw in our side."

"And," said Albus, "however unsettling the truth about Wilcox might be, at least we now know what that truth _is._"

"We do?" said Aidan. "You mean, more than we already knew?"

Albus jolted. "Oh. Right. I forgot to tell you why I bolted out of there instead of walking through the Veil to save everyone." He cleared his throat. "We should move to a back room to discuss this, in case anyone walks in. I… have some bad news."

They headed into the storeroom in back. Albus clenched his fists. "So… I know why Wilcox showed up so soon after he died in Herpo's lair."

"Besides him having Horcruxes?" asked Aidan.

"Yeah, unfortunately, besides that. He's got _clones._"

Each of his friends swore in turn.

"_Clones?_" sputtered Teddy. "Is that…"

"The twenty-third Devoctrix, yeah," said Albus. "Cloning. Desulgon said once it seemed like the Man in the Shadows might have been the name for more than one person, since it seemed like he was often in more than one place at the same time. And that's how Wilcox was able to orchestrate all of the enemy's plans and movements while still always being at Hogwarts—Desulgon had thought he could completely rule out Wilcox as the Man in the Shadows because Wilcox never left Hogwarts or communicated with anyone outside the walls—but he didn't have to… he had other Wilcoxes doing that."

Mia sighed. "Great. So does Wilcox have clones _instead_ of Horcruxes… or both?"

"Desulgon said he had two Horcruxes," said Aidan. "But maybe he misunderstood the two clones as two Horcruxes. He didn't have time to explain how he knew about the Horcruxes, so we can't be sure…"

"Did he name anyone who _would_ know whether or not we have to deal with Horcruxes, too?" asked Victoire.

"Yes," said Alec. "He said Siobor might know. Siobor is in Azkaban."

Albus lit up. "Well… as long as we're in enemy territory and Wilcox is occupied in the Ministry looking for us…"

"You can't seriously be thinking about _breaking into Azkaban,_" said Mia.

"Teddy," said Albus. "Can you get us the recharging device for Swait's knife? While they're still looking for us at the Ministry?"

"I can damn well try," said Teddy, "but it feels like now would be the best time to try, wouldn't it? Should I go now?"

"Yes," said Albus. "I don't know how else we'd get into Azkaban."

"Casting Unforgiveable Curses," suggested Alec.

"That would get us on the wrong side of the cells," sighed Teddy. "Albus, it feels like this is a time-sensitive issue, so I should get on this right now. After Azkaban, we can head out to rescue Lucy, if we have the knife's power and all seven of us."

"Do you want to bring it back here," asked Victoire, "or should we all meet at Azkaban?"

"Here," said Aidan. "We wouldn't want to show up to Azkaban early and end up giving away the game. When we have the knife, teleporting to Azkaban from here will be a lot easier. Assuming someone here has already been there and knows where to teleport?"

"I have," said Teddy. "Okay—we've got another mission. Excellent. I'll be back in a few minutes!"

He turned, and vanished.

Once Teddy was gone, and it became clear that nothing would happen until he got back, Albus's knees gave out and he stumbled to the ground. In this moment of quietude, all of the things that had just happened sank into him as he sank onto the floor.

His plan for reuniting Pyron had failed. They would have been better off just keeping the Sprites between him and Alec. Wilcox had clearly been searching for the Natural Sprites when he said the "Natural S"… But did Wilcox even plan on reuniting them? Maybe he had just wanted to control them. It was so stupid to reconstruct Pyron—an ancient deity bent on turning the world to ash. Why would Albus have possibly expected Pyron to want anything different now than when he last roamed the Earth?

There was no way, of course, that they could have known what would happen, and the infinite power of Pyron was too important a risk not to take. The Sprites alone wouldn't have helped him defeat Wilcox. And maybe there was a reason for it all turning out like this… If things hadn't gone this way, they wouldn't know now that Wilcox had cloned himself. That was a major piece of information.

But the other part of what had happened sank in next, this one like a knife through the heart. Eftan, his half-brother who only recently had love restored to his heart… Eftan was…

He squeezed his eyes shut, and a steady stream of tears instantly flowed. Eftan had been so brave. He could have left at any time, gone into hiding like Albus's family, or he could have even come to join Albus's posse. But he chose to stay as a spy, a double agent, reporting from the inside. If he hadn't stayed at Hogwarts, they wouldn't have gotten the Polyjuice from Scorpius that they needed to invade Ilka… and without that, they wouldn't have realized Mara's existence… and they wouldn't have created Pyron, so they wouldn't have found out about Wilcox's clones.

Albus's brain jolted as he remembered something else from their recent adventures—the Propheteers, and the lost line from the prophecy that he wasn't supposed to know. _"And as the final shadow is banished, so its banishing light shall leave this world as well."_

They hadn't banished the "final shadow" yet. The Burning Day had come and was almost gone… the hostage Aether was freed, and the shadows Wilcox and Herpo had clashed. But the "final shadow" wasn't gone—the Propheteers had correctly presumed that Wilcox and Herpo would both die today, but what they hadn't known was that there was more than one Wilcox. So their interpretation of the prophecy had been understandable, but still inaccurate. It was almost even more infuriating, though, that the prophecy might still be able to come true to its word, that they couldn't escape it. The "final shadow" presumably meant the final one of the Wilcox clones… He might still have to die in order to defeat Wilcox for good. He was fully willing to, of course, but giving the Propheteers any satisfaction was nauseating… Not nearly as nauseating as the thought of Wilcox winning, though. Albus would be happy to "leave this world as well" with Wilcox. Wilcox wanted him dead? Maybe Wilcox would get that one victory, but Albus would take the murderer with him, in Eftan's memory. An eye for an eye. Or _eyes_ for an eye, rather, considering Wilcox had killed way more people than the three times he needed to be killed…

Albus gritted his teeth as another thought crossed his mind: Another prophecy that they hadn't been able to avoid. The evil that was rising under Hogwarts—Wilcox—it was prophesized that a son of Harry Potter would die in the fight against him, and that it was a necessary event in order for Wilcox to be destroyed. And now Eftan had just been that death.

Well, there was still that second half of the prophesy to fulfill. Albus hated the thought that Eftan's death was "necessary" to stop Wilcox, but since it had already happened… He would let it further fuel his efforts to destroy the man who had been the cause of so much death so far, and so much more to come.

O

"I can't believe you're actually doing this," said Lucy, shaking her head.

Grody grinned widely. "Oh, believe it. I'm willing to do a lot of things you'd be surprised at. And for the chance to bang Lucy Weasley? I'm willing to go out on even more of a limb to get _your_ limbs up in the air." He gestured to a girl Lucy had seen before, at Hogwarts, who had joined him this time on his trip to visit her prison cell. "Miss Quinn will be our Bonder today. I would have asked Pierce, but he's off at the Ministry with the team that's been sent to go exterminate your brother since he went and cornered himself there."

Lucy shook her head. "You should probably know by now that it is _not_ that easy. He'll squirm away."

"We'll see," said Grody. "In the meantime… Miss Quinn?"

"You're a primitive-minded idiot," she scoffed. Turning to Lucy, she added, "And you're a whore."

"I can live with both of those truths," said Grody. "Now…"

He opened the door to Lucy's cell, and they both stepped in. "Reach for my wand," warned Abby, "and I'll have every slut bone in your slut body broken."

"We'll hold her hand out at a distance where she can't stretch any farther," said Grody, "and you'll hold your wand just beyond that. Don't worry, she won't try anything. It's her only chance at getting a somewhat decent life while she's here, and she could be here for the rest of her life, however cruelly long or cruelly short that may be."

Grody grabbed Lucy's hand, and wrenched it as far as it would go; Lucy winced in pain.

"Do you swear," said Grody, "if I provide you with the same food I eat with full intention to keep you healthy, and provide you with a bed comparable to that on which I sleep, and allow you to move about the jail cell freely… that you will have sex with me?"

"I want to add one condition," said Lucy.

Grody sighed. "What."

"You have to bring me roses. Every time you want to do it. Be a gentleman."

Grody relaxed and laughed. "_Roses?_ That's it? I thought you were going to be a smartass and say you wanted the keys to your jail cell or something. Of course I'll bring you roses. And if I bring you roses—that, and everything I said in my first draft of the statement—you swear that if I do that, you'll have sex with me?"

"I do," said Lucy, and a thin tongue of flame wrapped around her wrist. "And do you swear that I will keep these living conditions for a full month _before_ _and_ _after_ each encounter?"

Grody frowned. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"It's the only way I won't rip my hand away before we're done sealing the Vow," said Lucy. "You'd best accept those conditions before I get any other ideas."

"Then I accept," said Grody, and another tongue of flame wrapped around them, "so you don't have time to think of anything worse. A month is nothing. And one more—will you, when we do the deed, allow me as much time as I need to finish?" He smirked.

"I will," said Lucy, and Grody beamed triumphantly, probably very pleased with himself for closing that loophole. The Unbreakable Vow was then sealed, and Abby, looking quite disgusted at what she had just consented to oversee, turned and walked swiftly away.

"See you tomorrow with your new accommodations," cooed Grody. "And then we begin the countdown to the day next month when I get to conquer you."

He slid the door to her cell shut and swiveled to his left on his left foot. He strode away, humming to himself.

Lucy cracked a smile—so far, so good for her plan. Hopefully, she could catch the grammar loophole for which she was aiming, and then she could entirely avoid the sex part. But even if she couldn't, she'd only have to make that sacrifice once. Disgusting a man as he might be, the ends would justify the means.

Either way… she planned to be out of here in a month.

O

Albus paced along Teddy's underwater habitat. He didn't know approximately how long Teddy expected to take during the retrieval of the Bloodblade's recharger, so he didn't know if he should be worried yet.

"Albus," said Aidan. "Can we… talk about what happened in the Ministry, with the Contagion?"

For once, Albus wanted to talk about this. "Yes," he said, and Aidan looked pleasantly surprised but still worried.

"Did you happen to… count?" asked Aidan. "How many times you let the Contagion loose?"

"I don't know," said Albus. "I'd have to see it in a Pensieve."

"So… You could literally lose your mind at any moment. You could already be on your last cycle before the insanity takes hold."

"It's possible," admitted Albus, to Aidan and to himself.

"We should get to Hogwarts on this trip," said Aidan. "As long as we're breaking into the places where we could not possibly be less welcome. We have no idea when you might get seized by the next urge to let loose the Contagion, and if it happens when we're unprepared, we may not be able to save you in time."

"Isn't it the winter holidays, though?" asked Alec. "Will the people we need still be there?"

"I think they would be," said Aidan. "The Triwizard Tournament is happening at Durmstrang this year and most people stayed so they could go to the Yule Ball."

Albus nodded. "Are you thinking we should do this before Azkaban, or after?"

"Before," said Aidan. "If you cure your Contagion… You wouldn't have that Transfection anymore. You know what that means?"

Albus gasped. "I could be an Animagus again," he said. "Walking in as an animal instead of a human—That would make the Azkaban trip so much easier!"

"Animagus, _again?_" said Mia Moon, gawking.

"Don't tell anyone," said Alec. "If the Ministry found out that Albus was an unregistered Animagus, they might want to arrest him."

They all laughed for a moment, and then Teddy popped back into view. "Got it!" he exclaimed, and he held up a device that looked like a toaster with one small slot. Albus recognized it—he had seen a picture of the device during his stay in Desulgon's moon base. "It's really ratchet… But I guess you can really cast a Devoctrix on anything, if Tom Riddle turned an old diary into a residence for part of his soul."

He handed it to Albus, and Albus took out the knife, feeling thrilled. "I hope it doesn't take too long to charge," he said. He slid the knife into the slot. "Anything else we have to do?"

Teddy shook his head. "Nope, just insert it. And nope, it shouldn't take too long to charge! Reportedly, only about twenty-three minutes."

Alec laughed. "Twenty-three. Of course."

"Actually, not exactly twenty-three," said Teddy. "A little over. Twenty-three point six-six-something like that. So it's not exactly twenty-three. Minutes are man-made units, after all, and the laws of nature and magic worked out the way they did long before we invented minutes, so they wouldn't conform to our measurements. Days, on the other hand, are a natural cycle, so twenty-three days makes sense."

"Oh, okay," said Alec. "So this one is just random? Not about the super-weird mathy stuff?"

"Oh, it is about the super-weird mathy stuff," said Teddy. "The timing is something like the speed of light divided by the speed of sound, then divided by the first five Angelic Numbers—"

"Okay, stop," said Alec, clutching his head. "Yeah, you can stop right there."

"So, another twenty-three minutes, then," said Albus. "We've waited long enough to get the recharger. We can wait a little longer to use it."

"And then to Azkaban?" asked Teddy.

"Hogwarts first," said Aidan. "We need to cure Albus. We have reason to believe he got the Contagion accelerated inside the Time Room in the Ministry… We need to nip the bud before it blooms, since that could be any second. And Albus practiced being an Animagus—if he cures the Contagion, he would be free to restore his earlier Transfection of being an Animagus, and that would really assist our Azkaban efforts."

"This might help you find the three people we need a lot faster," said Albus, and he pulled the Marauder's Map out of his bag, and handed it to Teddy. "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._"

"Harry told me about this," said Teddy as the map filled itself in, and they noted that Parker Pullman, Kayla Reagan, and Aethan Maddox were indeed all within the castle. "Perfect. Thank you!"

Once they all fell silent, everyone slowly turned to stare at the knife in the recharging machine.

"Is it… supposed to be doing anything?" asked Mia. "Humming, buzzing, glowing, anything?"

Albus peered at it. "Hm. I don't know. It doesn't feel like it's doing anything… You can usually feel Devoctrix power right in your skin when you're near an active one."

"The knife itself doesn't feel weird, though," said Teddy. "Does it?"

"It does when it's being used," said Albus. "And the recharger is being used right now…" He picked up the device, and looked all around it. Actually… it didn't look exactly like the picture in Desulgon's moon base.

Was the picture wrong? Or was the _device_ wrong?

"Merlin's crabs!" cried Victoire, and all of them looked at her, then followed her gaze outside the window.

"It's a person!" yelped Cynthia.

"Oh, no," murmured Teddy, seeing a flailing wizard writhe underwater in the lights just outside the window; he vanished seconds later. "They must have tracked me here. I don't know how—I flew so far away to Apparate! But we've got so many defensive charms on… Can they get in here? Or was that first attempt just a miss?"

"Protective enchantments aren't a problem for Wilcox if he knows where we are," said Albus, standing up and gathering up his bag again. "They won't keep missing our base for long!"

"Shit," said Alec, growing pale. "I think I know what's going on."

Suddenly, Alec slapped at Albus's hand, and knocked the device away; it slammed into the ground. It exploded into a hundred pieces of machinery. Albus gaped at the ruin, with the knife lying in the center.

"ALEC!" screamed Mia. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL—YOU DESTROYED IT!"

"Exactly," said Alec, picking up the knife and handing it to Albus. "It broke. You think Swait would have made this _breakable?_"

"What?" said Aidan. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen enough Muggle movies to know how this goes," said Alec.

"What the hell are you saying?" asked Aidan, gathering his bag up as Albus picked up the knife again and stowed it. "Get to the point! Kind of an urgent situation here!"

"You think they left the recharger in a place where anyone in disguise could walk in and steal it?" asked Alec. "They knew we had the knife and they knew we'd try to nab the recharger and bring it with us. It's bugged—Wilcox is probably tracking its location, and he's using it to find us here!"

"Shit, he's right," said Teddy, running a hand over the pieces. "It's still emanating a curse that disables our protective charms from within, since we brought it inside our protection. The time to go is absolutely immediately. Link hands and hold your breath—and do not let go under any circumstances until we're on dry land!"

They all linked together, and Teddy vanished; they reappeared in a churning ocean, bobbing to the surface. They waited a few seconds, tightly gripping each other's wrists, and once they went under a wave, Teddy led their Disapparition again.

"If you can help it," said Teddy after they appeared on the side of a road, "try to teleport into a body of water like that first. They can track teleportation, but it slows their pursuit if you teleport somewhere else before your next destination, especially one that throws you for a loop. Like getting tossed in the waves."

"Or a _volcano,_" shot Aidan.

"Come on, it was a good move!" defended Alec.

"Where are we?" asked Mia, getting them back to the point, shivering; they were wet from their dip in the ocean, and wherever they were was freezing.

"We're close to Hogwarts now," said Teddy, leading them off of the road and casting spells on each of them to dry them off and warm them up. "Now, they're going to have a lot of defenses around the castle. And their siege alarms are going to go off if we enter the castle."

"So how are we getting in?"

Teddy flashed a smile. "Have I mentioned I occasionally moonlight as the gamekeeper, Faustulus Earle? The siege alarms will recognize me as a frequenter and they won't go off."

"Teddy," said Alec, "you're one of a kind. Despite the fact that you're also literally everyone who ever lived."

"Okay," said Aidan. "So you'll go inside and fetch Parker, Kayla, and Aethan Maddox, while we summon a Dementor here?"

"Er… _why?_" asked Mia. "I thought only Albus was going insane?"

"You can catch each other up on the details," said Teddy. "I'm going to go get the three people we need."

"Make sure none of them are actually just tracking devices in disguise," called Alec after Teddy he took a broom from his pack and lifted off into the air.

"Okay," said Mia. "I was taking everything in stride up to this point, but please tell me why we need a Dementor here…"

"We need one each of a blind, deaf, and mute person to touch Albus's soul," explained Aidan to Mia. "Literally touch it. Parker is blind, Kayla is deaf, and Aethan is mute, so that's why we're here. And then to get the soul out of the body… The only way we know to get a soul out of the body is by Dementor."

"And you're going to, what, kindly petition the Dementor to do exactly what you ask?" queried Mia. "And how are you going to get just one Dementor?"

"We can't get just one," said Albus. "We'll have to use a Miasmus, which is going to attract a lot of them. And to keep them all at bay…" He grimaced.

"We have a lot of people who can cast Patronuses," said Alec. "Parker and Aethan too, definitely, and maybe Kayla."

"And you have the Resurrection Stone," noted Aidan, "which you said helped keep them at bay before."

"Not for long," said Albus. "There were something like two hundred Dementors last time, and they tore through really quickly. I think there's only one way to fend off every Dementor at once while still also keeping one exactly where we need it. I'm going to have to cast the Spirit Guard again."

"Albus," said Aidan sternly, "when Professor Desulgon cast the Spirit Guard Devoctrix with the Chaos Contagion, that's when he went insane. You'd go instantly insane if you did that now."

"Yes, but I could still be curable for a while, as opposed to me reaching the insanity in a few days and _never_ being curable," said Albus. "As long as you restrain me properly, we can still do everything else exactly the same. I'm going to go completely insane at some point anyway if this doesn't work—I might as well have it happen with some utility."

"But if we screw this up," warned Alec, "you'll be insane."

"If we screw up the Dementor part, I could wind up soulless!" argued Albus. "It's a necessary risk, all right? I know the Spirit Guard can help us—it's got a mind of its own and it will know exactly what needs to get done and how to do it better than any of us would. It's our best chance. If I fail, you can always bring me back to the moon and Exo can bite me. I'd be a werewolf, but I'd be cured."

"Have you practiced the motions enough?" asked Victoire. "To cast this Spirit Guard Devoctrix?"

"I have, from a memory of the first time I did it," said Albus. "I've practiced it enough to make me dizzy." But he didn't actually need to remember.

"Then… if you're sure it's our best chance," said Aidan.

Mia looked back at the castle. "So, why do we need to be _here_ for a person who can't see, one who can't hear, and one who can't speak? Why can't we just go to a Muggle hospital or something? They're bound to have a few differently-abled persons we could convince to help us without the risk of being here!"

"Desulgon specifically told us to go to Hogwarts," said Aidan. "I thought of that, too, but I don't think Desulgon would have passed over the thought of going somewhere less dangerous unless it wouldn't work. So I believe they all have to be _magical_ people involved in this ritual. It also makes sense that it would have to be magical people, based on ancient theory from Mayan wizardry. They used to revere witches and wizards with disabilities, because they could be used to alleviate ailments of those with corresponding injuries to the sense or body part that they lacked. It has something to do with magic regarding the human body, and magical energy that would be otherwise flowing to that part of their body or mind but is unable to do so when their body isn't complete, and so that particular part of their magic is stockpiled within—"

_Get Dementors ready now!_

Aidan cut himself off when Teddy's voice rang through all of their heads.

_I'm headed out of the castle with all three. We need to get this started right away—Crim often oversees the school while Auchland is indisposed, and she'll be extra vigilant in his absence._

Albus raised his wand. "Everybody ready?"

When each of them had nodded, Albus cleared his throat. The memory of Eftan's death still fresh in his mind, he shouted, "_Expecto Miasmum!_"

A jet-black coyote burst from his wand, snarling at its caster. Its frothing mouth was hanging open as it emitted a continuous low growl.

"Ugh," said Mia, and then a wave of hopelessness and dread washed over them.

Albus's muscles all tensed as one; he was riddled with new doubts. This plan was nowhere near as airtight as it needed to be. It was bound to fail, and when he lost control, his friends wouldn't be able to restrain him; he'd be crazed like Desulgon, soon cavorting out into the open and getting murdered by Wilcox immediately—

Albus shook the thoughts out of his head. They were put there by the Miasmus. They were legitimate concerns, of course, but he could channel the concerns into making sure those outcomes didn't occur.

He concentrated, and suddenly his coyote Miasmus burst into two separate Miasmuses; the original shuddered again and a third split off. The three Miasmuses started pacing around the group, lunging and barking occasionally as their fear and frailty became harder and harder to battle back. The Dark Miasmuses were much easier to make multiple copies of than their Light Patronus cousins… That was probably poetic somehow, but he wasn't in the mood to contemplate it now.

_I'm coming up on you now! I see Albus's Miasmuses!_

A chill filled the air; there must have been Dementors in the area close to Hogwarts, because they were already here. In one direction, he could see three brooms headed their way, which were Teddy, Parker, Kayla, and Aethan; in the other direction, dozens of cloaked humanoid figures were charging their way just as fast.

Albus steadied himself, and pulled Swait's knife from his bag. He pulled off the lid at the blunt end of the knife, and poured the two halves of the Resurrection Stone out from the small compartment inside. He caught them in his hand, turning them three times.

"Are you ready?"

The voice this time was Professor Desulgon's instead of Professor Westerling's. Desulgon stood over Albus, and nodded; Albus nodded back.

Albus began copying Desulgon's hand motions, but he already knew this spell fairly well, and he was already getting it on the first attempt. As the three brooms pulled up—Parker on Teddy's, and Aethan and Kayla close behind—Albus finished the ritual casting of the Spirit Guard Devoctrix, knowing it was the last sane act he'd perform until this was over.

A surge of power burst through him and was channeled out through his hands into a brilliant flash of light as the Spirit Guard appeared. The Miasmuses howled, and in the new coyote's glow, they were bathed in fire, and reborn as Patronuses. Together with the Spirit Guard, they inhaled deeply and then let loose a ferocious bark that shook the very earth.

They could see the sonic waves traveling across the grass, kicking up dirt on the road, and when they struck the incoming horde of Dementors, almost all of them were shattered like glass figurines dropped from a skyscraper, and their pieces melted into nothingness before they even hit the ground. There was one, however, left—the Spirit Guard purposefully left it alive (or at least still in existence, if not technically alive).

The Spirit Guard jumped once, and then bounded off from the ground like it had propelled itself off of the world's most powerful trampoline. As the last Dementor fled, the Spirit Guard intercepted its flight and sank its teeth into the Dementor's neck. Like Gimmick bringing Albus a mouse as a present, the Spirit Guard trotted back towards Albus and offered it up to him.

Albus looked at the creature that was the embodiment of despair, squirming so helplessly in the powerful grip, and he felt triumph rush within him.

It was quickly obscured, though, as he lost all control of his body. He fell to the ground instantly. He was still observing the situation, but his limbs were writhing and his body was convulsing. Teddy clapped magical restraints on his hands and feet to keep him from going anywhere if he went totally insane; Albus could feel the Chaos Contagion fighting within him, the disease at its strongest yet. It was now absolutely overpowering, and the most he could do was hold it back and give his friends more time to cure him without his insane mind enacting vigorous resistance—and if the Spirit Guard Devoctrix faded, they might have no way to force the Dementor to obey their wishes.

The others were leaning over him now, too, including Parker, Kayla, and Aethan. Albus wanted to say something to them, but his mouth was foaming as he kept up the ferocious defense against the Contagion's siege on all of his faculties. He completely lost control of one leg, and it began sending out pulses of wandless energy. He felt himself hit with a Full Body-Bind, and his tremors locked shut on the outside but continued on the inside, as the Spirit Guard lowered the Dementor towards Albus's agape mouth.

The Dementor resisted, but the Spirit Guard bit down harder on its neck, and it relented; slowly, it began draining Albus.

He was too preoccupied fighting the Contagion to even notice his happiest memories being pulled away. He felt it barraging his mind, finally ready to fully take over, and then—

O

Alec's throat closed up as a small white point of light drifted up and out of Albus's parted lips. The Spirit Guard Devoctrix faded away, as did Albus's Patronuses, but the Dementor continued to drain, now set upon its task.

"That's it!" he yelled. "That's his soul! The three of you—_now—_"

"Wait!" cried Parker.

"We _can't_ wait!" screamed Alec. "If this goes on too long the Dementor could actually eat his—"

"I sense bad auras—three teachers are coming! It's Tetchel and Crim, and—"

Parker never finished his sentence. The others whipped out their wands, ready to Dissipate, but being blind, he was unable to react to the spell headed his way. A Dark curse, thin as a wire, zipped through the air and pierced through his throat, severing his jugular; blood churned from his neck like a ruptured hose, and he crumpled to the ground.

Alec screamed so loudly that no sound came out—that was Parker dead, but also their blind man for Albus's cure. Greta Pierce unveiled herself from an Invisibility Cloak, and jumped off her broom to set herself in position to duel. Leslie Tetchel and Megan Crim landed brooms by her side and readied their wands.

Teddy, Victoire, and Aidan leapt up to duel them as Cynthia leaned down over Parker, passing her intact hand over his body. She shook her head—he was already gone. Alec forced himself into recovery from the trauma, and made a move to join Teddy, but Mia grabbed his wrist as the others began to duel.

"Albus's soul is lost if we don't do something _right now,_" she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "_No!_" she snapped as Aethan's Patronus burst from his wand. "No—don't chase it away! We can still cure Albus!"

"We can?!" asked Alec.

Mia slammed her hands on either side of Alec's face and drew him in so close that their noses touched. Something cold in each hand was pressed against Alec's cheeks.

"You have to guide my hand to the soul," she said firmly. "I'm not going to be in any position to do it myself. Promise me you'll do that! PROMISE IT!"

"I promise, but what are you—"

And then Alec realized exactly what Mia was about to do, right before she did it. Mia had conjured a pair of small steel knives, which she held in both hands, and she backed away and took a deep breath. She couldn't hesitate—insanity or soullessness was upon Albus in seconds, and she couldn't let anyone stop her… not even herself.

In a flash, she had cast a spell to alleviate her pain, and she plunged the knives directly into her eyeballs.

Alec clamped a hand over his mouth, as Mia screamed. The pain-relieving spell hadn't been enough to stop the intensity of the anguish she had inflicted upon herself.

But now she was _blind._

She was trying to form her screams into words, and eventually succeeded. "DO IT!" she sobbed, clawing at her own face in the frenzy of her agony.

Alec suppressed every shred of his emotion, because every shred of his emotion was horror-struck and his muscles were useless any time he internalized any of his surroundings, amplified tenfold by the unchecked Dementor in their midst. Albus's soul was ripped out of his body and almost swallowed up forever, Parker was dead with his neck torn open, and Mia's eyes were gushing blood like rivers.

Alec mustered up every bit of his resolve, and he grabbed her hand, thrusting it onto the soul that was barely two inches from the Dementor's mouth. Kayla and Aethan threw their hands in as well, and they all closed their hands around each other's.

There was a colossal blast of light and song.


	21. The First Prophecy

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE FIRST PROPHECY

O

Albus sat upright, disoriented.

Madam Birchbaum was standing over him.

He laid his head back on the bed he was on. White sheets. Clean-smelling.

Of course… He was at Hogwarts.

Everything up until now had been a horrific dream. He had hit his head… maybe in a Quidditch match, and he'd just woken up in the hospital wing. He had spent a long time unconscious and had dreamed all of the awful things that had happened. Wilcox wasn't evil. His family wasn't in hiding. Eftan wasn't dead.

Madam Birchbaum looked over in someone else's direction. "He's awake!"

"Did I catch the Snitch?" mumbled Albus.

"What?" asked Madam Birchbaum. "Everyone—he's awake. His eye, though… It's still… But he's awake."

"Oh, thank goodness," said a voice, and someone ran over to his bedside—Exo. Now Albus knew he was back at Hogwarts in his sixth year—he had dreamt Exo was on the moon, and that was just ridiculous. He looked out the window, looking for the moon…

His heart nearly gave out when he realized there was no window—the entire ceiling was glass. Shining outside was not the moon, but the _Earth._

As he slowly started to remember what had happened, he started looking around to make sure everyone had made it out of that last situation safely. Aidan was talking with Teddy and Victoire as they walked over to see Albus. Aethan Maddox was playing chess with Dumbledog.

"Where's Mia?" he asked instantly, noticing Alec alone.

"She's recovering," said Cynthia Birchbaum. "From… an injury. It was a physical injury, not a magical one, so I can remedy it… but the nature of the injury means that her recovery may take a long time. Months to be well again, maybe even years to be fully healed."

"Kayla?"

"She was worried about her family, being unable to defend themselves. They have been relocated, they made amends with her, and she went with them to protect them."

"Where's Parker?" he asked next.

Cynthia slowly shook her head.

Albus's stomach heaved; he leaned his head over the side of the bed, almost positive he was going to vomit.

One more person he cared about, dead on his behalf.

"Albus," said Teddy, walking over to his bedside. "When I asked Parker if he would join us… I warned him that Wilcox's forces may come after him. I told him his life would be put in great danger. I didn't lie to him, so he knew exactly how dangerous it was." Teddy sat down on the side of the bed and put a hand on Albus's shoulder. "He said he'd be willing to sacrifice anything to help you win. He knew that could include his life."

Albus took a shuddering breath, trying to stop himself from crying. It wasn't just Parker. It was Eftan, and whatever had happened to Mia, and it would probably be many more before this was over.

"But… did it work?" asked Teddy. "Your eyes are still two different colors. The Chaos Contagion is gone, though, right?"

"If I still have the Contagion, I don't feel it," Albus said. "You didn't know about my eyes until I woke up?"

"No," said Teddy. "We tried opening up your eyes to look, but they seemed to be magically sealed shut somehow. We worried for a while that they might never open."

"We brought you here in case you weren't cured," said Victoire, "so that if the cure hadn't worked the way we wanted it to, Exo could bite you to get the Contagion out completely if need be."

"How long have I been up here?" asked Albus. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Just a couple of days," said Teddy.

"It's New Year's Eve," noted Victoire. "2023 is over."

"Twenty-three," chuckled Alec. "The year of the Devoctrices."

"_That_ year isn't over yet," said Exo.

Albus sat back up, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Whoa," said Cynthia, placing a flat palm against his chest to stop him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Azkaban," said Albus. "We have a schedule to keep."

"Not right now, you're not," said Cynthia. "We need to observe you for a while—you need to observe yourself. We all need to make sure you're fully all right."

"I'm fine," said Albus. "But do you know who's not all right? Parker Pullman. Eftan Griffiths. We need to go make sure as few people end up that way as possible."

"Oh, he's back to his old self, all right," said Aidan, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Albus, flaring up. "Is defeating the man who wants to kill us and all our families and billions of others _not as pressing a priority for anyone else?_"

"Stop it," said Exo. "Albus, speaking as someone who's had a long-term habit of taking out his rage on the wrong people… stop that right now."

Albus clenched his fists. "I _can't_ stop," he said. "Not until this is over."

Aethan Maddox walked over to Albus, and lifted his wand; silently, he cast the Connectivity Charm, and Aethan's calm voice spoke into Albus's head.

_It'll be "over" a lot quicker if you rush headlong into fight after fight without taking time to think and recover,_ came Aethan's soft but impactful voice. _Your determination is admirable, Albus, but you also need to be determined enough to be able to hold back when brute force isn't the best option._

Albus looked around. "So, what should we do then?" he asked. "Just sit around? Is that what everyone wants us to do? While more people die?"

"We have to, for some time," said Victoire. "If we go down and don't have a concrete plan, Wilcox will find us while we're figuring out what to do."

"I have a concrete plan," said Albus. "Get to Azkaban. Find Siobor."

"I don't want to say it, Albus," said Alec, "but that sounds like the concrete plan that almost got the world incinerated by Pyron, and it also sounds like the concrete plan we had that got Parker killed."

The bluntness was like a punch to the gut, and Albus's eyes began to water anew.

"If we had planned it out better, maybe we could have avoided more death," said Aidan, "and planning things better is what we plan to do now—"

"And if we had waited too long, I could have gone insane," said Albus. "Just like how if we wait too long up here, we may not have much life left to preserve down there. I'm going down again." He jumped off the bed, pushing past Cynthia's outstretched arms as she feebly tried to coerce him back onto the bed. "I'm going to find Siobor in Azkaban, and I'm going to find out where Wilcox's Horcruxes are and take them out."

"How will you get Siobor to talk?" asked Aidan.

Albus paused. "He'll talk. Wilcox didn't release him from Azkaban yet; he must hate Wilcox."

"And if he's still loyal?"

"Veritaserum."

"Where will you get Veritaserum?" asked Alec.

Albus paused again. "We always work this stuff out on the road," he said through his clenched jaw.

"Barely!" said Aidan. "By the skin of our teeth! We've nearly made things infinitely worse on more than one occasion!"

_Albus, you're in a rage and you're not thinking clearly,_ came Aethan's voice again._ You are in the least apt position to take notice of your own logical flaws, and the rest of us are unanimously asking you to reflect. Please—give us at least a day. Stay here today. Heal and evaluate. And you can do what you want after that._

Albus took a deep breath, trying to see less red. He nodded to Aethan, who gave Albus a gentle smile back. _Thank you._

He wouldn't sit back on the hospital bed they'd set up for him; it made him feel weak and infirm at a time when he wanted to be strong. He instead walked over to a chair near the kitchen table and stared at the Earth through the glass-windowed ceiling.

That little planet housed everything he knew, and all of it was in danger.

He sighed, and placed a hand on his head as he started feeling dizzy. He did almost go insane, there… it was probably a good idea to take it easy for a while. Sleep and eat, maybe. And he'd be back on that little blue sphere just as soon as it turned around once.

O

Lucy bit down into a piece of incredibly tender pork, and exhaled audibly at the heavenly taste. She would never again in her life be unappreciative of any meal.

"Glad you like it," said Grody. "I cook for myself sometimes, but nothing beats house-elf." He chuckled. "Well, _I_ beat house-elves senseless all the time, but I meant nothing beats house-elf cooking."

Lucy ignored him; it was easy while her senses were being overwhelmed by the amazing meal.

"Can't ignore me forever, Luce," he sang at her, his face pressed between two of her bars. "You've got everything you asked for. January thirtieth. Mark your calendar. I'm coming to claim my end of the bargain then."

He tossed something into her cell; Lucy looked out of the corner of her eye. "I brought you a calendar so you can keep track for yourself… though you probably know I'm going to be reminding you over and over again every day." He swiveled to his left on his left foot, and strolled off. "Happy New Year. Thirty days until you're mine."

Lucy scrambled forward to the front of her cell and watched as Grody took a right down the hallway. Then, taking note of which foot he stepped on first, she listened intently to the sound of his disappearing footsteps.

One, left, two, left, three, left, four, left…

At the fifteenth step of Grody's right foot, there was a scraping sound, and Lucy knew he had swiveled on his right foot. Then his left foot stepped down again.

Grody always swiveled on the foot on which he was turning—Lucy had noticed this before, and she could use it to determine where he was stepping. She craned her neck further; his footsteps down the next hallway were even more faint, but she could still hear them. One, left, two, left, three, left… Thirty, forty, and then fifty-seven steps later he turned again, this time on his left foot. The steps were far fainter now… As they became too faint to hear, Lucy kept counting at the same pace, hoping she could keep close enough time to correctly estimate the distance. Eleven, left, twelve, left…

When she reached twenty-two on the left, she faintly heard another swivel; the footsteps were gone, but the scrapes of Grody's feet as they turned were louder than the footsteps themselves. She listened for a while longer, but couldn't hear anything else.

She would have to verify that last leg of the trip; Grody was often visiting to bring her food, so she had plenty of time to make sure of her results. But even if she were one or two strides off, it wouldn't matter, as long as she got the correct turn direction.

She sat back on her bed, twisting the corner of her sheet between her fingers as she committed it to memory. Fifteen strides, then turn right. Fifty-seven strides, then left. Twenty-two, then left again.

Fifteen, right. Fifty-seven, left. Twenty-two, left. It was a start, at least. It might not even be anywhere near how far she would have to go to get all the way out of here, but she would have to be improvising a lot in her escape and it would be nice to have at least some of the route planned out.

She hoped she was actually tracking the route out of the prison complex, and not just a route further into it. But she was pretty sure she was. When Grody brought her breakfast or lunch, he would exit to the right. When he brought her dinner, he would exit to the left—presumably because he was leaving for the night.

She looked over to the calendar that Grody had thrown into her cell, and brought it close. She stared at January 30—the day she'd get out of here.

She very much welcomed Grody's constant reminders.

O

Albus took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and concentrated with all of his being. He pictured running across a forest trail, four legs under him and a tail behind him.

Slowly, he felt himself morphing, and he exhaled slowly as he transformed into his coyote Animagus form.

"Excellent!" Aidan clapped his hands together. "That'll make it so much easier for you to get into Azkaban undetected. We'll throw the Invisibility Cloak over you, and you can just change into a coyote!"

Albus transformed back into his human form, and breathed a sigh of relief. "That's excellent for two reasons," he said. "First off, I can access my Animagus abilities again… but that also means the Chaos Contagion should most definitely be gone, since you can't have more than one Transfection at a time."

"You could probably still get it again," said Aidan, "so, hands off the Devs for a while."

"I'm not itching to get back into that situation," said Albus. "Believe me, that won't be an issue unless we get another couple hundred Dementors headed our way."

"Or unless we have a Catalyst," chimed Alec, poking his head around the corner. "Hey! Albus! Come here, we found something you might like."

Albus and Aidan followed Alec towards the room labeled _Musings,_ where Desulgon stored a lot of information that he'd amassed. Exo was already inside.

"We think you'll like this," said Exo. "_Azkaban._"

On the blank white walls of the _Musings_ room, Desulgon's handwriting started appearing, and a picture began drawing itself. It only took a short time for Albus to realize what was being drawn: blueprints of Azkaban, with the names of each prisoner. It was a Marauder's Map of Azkaban.

Albus saw the word _Marauders_ in one of the paragraphs on the wall; he read through it quickly.

_I imagined that if the Man in the Shadows gets traction on the inside, or—Merlin forbid—actually gets control of the government, Azkaban will probably fill with some people he wants to keep down. I therefore found it possibly useful to keep a tab on the goings-on of Azkaban. It was also a fine test of my skills to see if I could map out a place so incredibly thoroughly Untraceable and otherwise protected. Using the techniques I gleaned from the study of the Marauder's Map—see _Marauder's Map_—I created a similar map of Azkaban prison, including even descriptions of the crimes for which each inmate is currently incarcerated._

"The other stuff is about history of Azkaban," said Exo. "How it used to have Dementors as guards… Ew. I can't even imagine. But this may also be helpful: Desulgon outlined exactly how to find it and all of its defenses."

"Damn, this man would have been useful to still have on our side," said Alec, shaking his head.

"There may be more defenses since the last time he checked, though," said Aidan. "Since Wilcox's coup has progressed way more since the last time he was sane."

"Look," said Albus, pointing at a center wing of the prison complex. "There he is. Siobor."

The name _Ivan Siobor_ was on a dot hovering inside one of the prison cells. Most of the cells nearby were empty, but there were a few others. The only one Albus recognized caused him to gasp aloud—_Milo Melaenk._

"Is Salvo Ihmleste listed in there, too?" asked Alec, noticing what Albus was looking at and scanning the surrounding area. "Both of them disappeared off the Liner, but if Milo is in Azkaban… where's Siobor?"

"The other question is, why is Milo in Azkaban?" asked Exo. "Throwing him in just for being loyal to Albus is definitely something my douche dad would do, but it would be too obvious if it just happened without explanation… he'd have needed to also set up a sufficiently believable public reason to send Milo into Azkaban."

Albus walked up to the wall and touched a finger to Milo's name. Under his name, more text began appearing.

_Milo Melaenk, b. 1975. Crime: Murder (victim Salvo Ihmleste)_

Albus almost sank to his knees, but there had been so much news of death, and so much death occurring right in front of him, that he was depressingly used to it. Clearly, Wilcox had murdered Salvo and had Milo blamed for it.

"That's not right," said Alec, shaking his head. "_Anybody_ who had a single conversation with Milo would know that Milo couldn't have done something like that. That's way too obvious."

"I guess Wilcox just doesn't care anymore about how transparent this stuff is," said Aidan. "Though I agree, I find it odd that he would have done it this way instead of just accusing them of violating federal or sovereign laws and having them removed from command. This seems a bit unnecessarily extreme… We should ask Teddy if he's heard anything about this." He jogged out to go find Teddy.

Albus committed the defenses to memory, as well as the path to Siobor's cell from each entrance to the prison.

"I know what you'll be thinking," said Alec. "You told me to keep the job of being Aidan, so I'm gonna channel him here for a bit: even though you're going to be right near Milo, we can't take the risk of freeing him."

"I know," said Albus. "I wasn't about to risk it. I would have tossed him a wand to help him escape after I left, but it looks like I won't be able to bring a wand in there or it will trigger an alarm." He hummed to himself. "But I think I may have an idea or two about how to communicate with Siobor anyway, undetected by Azkaban's safeguards…"

"Albus," said Aidan, walking back in; Teddy followed close behind. "Teddy knows why Milo was put away, and it's important."

"Milo knew something," said Teddy. "Something he really wasn't supposed to. So did Salvo. They killed Salvo and modified Milo's memory to make him truly believe he'd done the crime, and the entire crew's memory to believe the same. Then they sent him to Azkaban. I don't know exactly what happened, but I think I might have pieced together what they found out. Word was that it was something really big that the Man in the Shadows really didn't want them to know, and I know that Salvo and Milo were headed into the Siberia area on personal business with the Liner when they were apprehended."

"Oh," said Alec, a lightbulb visibly turning on inside his head. "You think?"

"I do," said Teddy.

Alec nodded. "They found Herpo's. It would make sense they might have picked up the trail of Wilcox's."

"They found Herpo's what?" asked Albus. "_Horcrux?_ You think Salvo and Milo found one of Wilcox's Horcruxes?!"

"They were scanning to make sure Herpo didn't have any others," said Alec. "I bet you that's why he had them both completely taken out of the picture."

"Is there a way to modify his memory back to the original?" asked Albus. "And find out where Wilcox's Horcrux is?"

"If your magic is more powerful than my father's," said Exo, shrugging. "But even if you could, he's probably moved that Horcrux by now if someone almost found it."

"Great," said Alec. "So we're no closer to it than we were before we knew about Milo."

"But it does inform us that we're probably dealing with Horcruxes _as well as_ clones," said Aidan.

"Hooray," muttered Alec. "Spectacular."

"But like our finding out about the clones," said Albus, "at least we know."

"Well," said Teddy, "it's been twenty-four hours, Albus. Are we going to head out now, then?"

Albus looked back at the map. "I think some more planning would do us well."

"Glad to hear you say that," said Teddy.

"Sorry about earlier."

"You don't have to apologize."

"But I want to."

"Then apology accepted," said Teddy. "It's hard when people who do wrong don't get the justice they deserve fast enough… but don't worry. They will in the end. They always do. It's just simply fate."

Albus turned towards the wall, a thought coming upon him. "I wonder if Desulgon found out about these guys," he said, and cleared his throat. "_Propheteers._"

The map of Azkaban melted away, and was replaced by a few paragraphs.

_Keeping an eye on the entire world, you notice a few things that other people don't notice much. One of these, which answered a few questions the way discovering a new particle explains previously unexplained scientific phenomena, were the Propheteers, a group of fate fanatics obsessed with ensuring that prophecies come to fruition apparently based on the myth of the first prophecy—see _First Prophecy_._

_The Propheteers' core principle is that prophecies are instruction manuals for the continuation of humanity. While it is true that I have not yet encountered a situation in which I can conclusively determine without doubt that a prophecy has been broken, I put no stock in the belief that should one be broken, it brings us closer to doom. But I also cannot conclusively determine that this belief cannot be true. The Propheteers, of course, have a strong opinion on this matter. Their opinion is that humanity is very fragile and could easily be wiped out by one large calamity. So we are walking a fine line, and the probability of the continuation of our species gets lower and lower as our powers of destruction become greater. Now, consider a prophecy: A prophecy predicts the future, and always has one or multiple human subjects involved in its implementation. If they ensure that all prophecies become true, they are ensuring by association that humans are around to complete them. On the other hand, if prophecies were things that did not have to be followed, then we open ourselves up to the possibility that humans are not around in the future. Since the probability of humans' self-extinction is so high from all the great and terrible world-ending powers we have developed, the most likely possibility is that humans will end up destroying themselves; they have taken this to mean that, since our endurance is perpetually defying probability, it must not be random, it must be contrived. It must be fate. Therefore, keeping to fate is of the utmost consequence. We must keep things in precise line, and not let our destiny become random, because the most likely probability of our scenario (if it's left up to chance) is humanity's downfall. The way to keep it from being random is by following the path of fate. So they keep watch over the world, and all of its prophecies, using the Apportentous Devoctrix, and they occasionally (but only very occasionally) intervene if they think a prophecy could be doomed to fail._

_As far as I can tell, they formed in response to a man named Azra Lamenta becoming Pyron—see _Pyron_. So close to the world's destruction, they concluded that it was a broken prophecy that led this to occur. A response team was summarily formed to protect future prophecies from being broken. They quickly became a secretive service operating outside of the law so as to remain neutral and unbound. At the time, there were a great deal fewer witches and wizards than there were today, and so fewer prophecies; it would make sense they would want to preserve all of them. Today, however, there are hundreds of prophecies every year, and I don't imagine it's so important to keep all of them. They believe, however, that it is important to keep prophecies forever flawless, so that fate does not become chance events, since our fate left up to chance is more likely to be our destruction; but as long as we have prophecies, we have guarantees that we are there in the future._

_Their headquarters is now in space, in orbit around the planet, in order to be better concealed; initially, it began on Earth, of course, and I have made a discovery that has brought together some previously disconnected dots. To help enforce order, the Propheteers brought mulunctapoli into their secret headquarters—see _Mulunctapoli_. Protected by a Devoctrix, the Illusiveil Devoctrix, their headquarters was not noticed during the extinction of the mulunctapoli. The mulunctapoli, therefore, survived, and it is from this source that they were again released into the wild in recent years; this is how they returned from "extinction." It is not clear why the Propheteers released some into the wild, but it's really not clear why they do literally anything or even exist… so, since it's already happened, I'm not too worked up about it unless I somehow understand some significance to the situation now._

_(Edit 5/23: It's possible they encountered a prophesy of Dismiusa's return and believed mulunctapoli were needed, in which case they may have intervened to ensure it by releasing the mulunctapoli as Dismiusa was being revived. I was under the impression that Dismiusa rousing from her slumber brought the mulunctapoli back, but it may have in fact been the other way around.)_

"How about that," said Aidan. "So that's where the mulunctapoli came from."

"I'm not about to read all that," sighed Alec, "so could someone tell me whether there's anything important in there?"

"Well," said Albus, "it just confirms what they told me… On the other hand, it makes me even more worried that they may try to interfere again for the same reasons they did the first time."

There was a little more, and Albus kept reading.

_The Propheteers claim that the First Prophecy, which has been lost and never recovered, says that the world will end if too many prophecies are not held. This could be a total farce, and they could have simply made it up like many ancient civilizations designed myths that some people around the world still hold fast to. In either case, they use this moral high ground to justify all actions, great and terrible. For example, they have been performing ghastly experiments on children; the main procedure is to install wand cores inside their bones to allow them to perform unparalleled wandless magic, and less than half of one percent of these children survive. On one hand, the Propheteers only take children who are left to certain death—in that way, it could almost be said that their net effect is saving lives. On the other hand, they have the ability to save all of those lives, yet only end up saving a few. I have considered intervening, but it would be too risky for me personally and could detract the world's focus from the Man in the Shadows. In addition, though their methods are cruel, it must be noted that there is at least one major prophecy regarding the demise of the Man in the Shadows, and it may be a very good thing for them to try and help enforce that._

_The wizards that the Propheteers take are almost always Muggle-born children… Astonishingly, they seem to manage to erase the names of these children from world registries of magical births, since these children are never on magical record. Furthermore—see _Unsolved Mysteries_—though they disproportionally take children from Asian countries, the effective rate of Muggle-born witches and wizards is still unaffected__—see _Unexplained Coincidences_—see _Suspicious Coincidences_—see _Ongoing Investigations._ The effective rate of Muggle-born wizards should be much lower considering their abduction of so many of them… One possible explanation for this unaccounted figure, in fact, could be that the procedure which instills wand cores in their bones also grants them magic despite being born Muggles. If this were the case, it would be one of the most incredible developments in magical history: the ability to give a Muggle the ability to perform magic—see _Bewizarding_. I can't even begin to imagine the ramifications. More research is necessary on exactly what is happening in there, and may affect how, or even IF, I ever try and stop them from performing these experiments._

_I have one more interesting note on these crazies. I believe them to be in possession of a minor Catalyst—not enough to ward off the Contagion entirely (as no Catalyst can fully stop the effects, just diminish them to varying degrees), but enough to give single users the ability to perform a few more Devoctrices than they might otherwise before going insane. I have noticed on three occasions, when a wizard within their ranks is exceedingly close to death, that Propheteer contracts the Chaos Contagion shortly before being humanely euthanized. Putting these two together, I believe that they have their members cast the Devoctrices as a sort of last rite of their lives before passing away, so that their young members don't risk contracting the Contagion. Why waste an old man who's about to die? He still has something he can give: a few Devoctrices before he goes. So they appear to be routine consumers of Devoctrices, which is how they know everything that's going on in the world, like me. Being on the moon, of course, I don't have to worry that they might find me—unless they somehow think to scour the entire moon. While on Earth, the only way of keeping them from finding me in case I threaten one of their precious prophecies is an Illusiveil Devoctrix, strongly cast so as to be able to hide from the Celetect Devoctrix they are using to search. For example, a sufficiently powerful Invisibility Cloak, such as the one from the Peverell family, or the one belonging to the ancient Egyptian priestess Ephreneia—see _Ephreneia_—which was recently discovered in Kambulkar's tomb—see _Kambulkar_._

Albus wanted to stay in this room forever, and read all about Ephreneia and Kambulkar, who were probably very fascinating people, and the First Prophecy, which sounded interesting. But he was still feeling the need for haste, although not as much as he was yesterday. Instead, he took note of the fact that he may have to stay under the Invisibility Cloak as much as possible to avoid detection not just by Wilcox but also by the Propheteers, who might still be looking to abduct him.

It almost, in fact, made him think that the best course of action might be…

Aidan, who had also finished reading, looked over at Albus, and seemed to have had the same thought. "Hey," he said. "Er… not to sound like a complete dick, but…"

"I know what you're thinking," said Albus. "I'm going down there."

"I guess you do know what I was thinking," said Aidan. "Albus… You're being tracked mercilessly, restlessly, by more than one party. Yes, you have the Invisibility Cloak, but one slip of that Cloak and you could be set upon by multiple attacking parties. Are you sure you don't want to just stay here when we're running the lesser errands, to lessen the risk that you could be captured or killed? You wouldn't want to end up dying on the small stuff."

"You already convinced me to wait a day," said Albus. "You're not convincing me to wait forever."

"I understand," said Aidan. "But we have to be realistic. In all honesty, your presence might actually jeopardize the mission if you're the focus of their—"

"_I'm going,_" said Albus, "and if they find us because of me, I'll distract them while you escape. I'd rather die that way than just sit up here doing nothing and live through the war!"

"We're not saying you should do nothing! We're saying, when it's a smaller or more specific task like breaking into Azkaban to ask Siobor some questions, maybe that's not a big enough endeavor for us to risk your presence in our group—"

"_Risk my presence?!_"

"Don't harp on my specific words and pretend I'm insulting you! You know damn well what I'm trying to say!"

"And you know damn well I'm not going to let it happen! _Every_ mission is crucial to this war, and I know you would just end up telling me that _every_ mission is not a good mission to join you for one reason or another! What about this mission, what about my Animagus abilities? How are you breaking into Azkaban without that?"

"We'll find a way that doesn't risk _bringing the one person everyone is looking for,_" said Aidan, glaring and speaking much more harshly than usual. "Albus, it was one thing when you were on a timer to insanity and we had to cure you, but you're obviously critical in the war and we shouldn't risk you dying every time we make a slight move!"

"It's worked out well so far!"

"Has it?" Aidan shook his head. "I recall us nearly dying many times, you getting bit by a mulunctapol, and once _almost bringing about the fiery apocalypse._ We've gotten this far by a series of fortunate coincidences. Without our divine intervention, we would have already had suicide missions several times over, and I'm not taking my chances one more time. I'm not going on another suicide mission with you. You can go to the surface, Albus, if you absolutely insist, but I'm not accompanying you this time. I'm not supporting the philosophy of multiple people going with you on missions, when your company will lead the enemy straight to you and everyone else around you."

Albus stared, feeling like he'd been punched in the face repeatedly every time Aidan added another word to that speech. Had Aidan just said that he wasn't going to go on the mission to Azkaban if Albus was going?

"I'm sorry, Albus," said Aidan. "But the time has come to put aside personal feelings. That means knowing what's best for everyone even if it makes you feel useless, and it also means you shouldn't take offense to my saying the obvious out loud. You know I'd do anything for you—even making you hate me."

"I just don't see how you plan to get through Azkaban without me," said Albus.

"Aidan," said Teddy, "I think we very much need Albus for this Azkaban run."

Aidan shook his head; Albus glared back at him.

"But after that," continued Teddy, looking at Albus, "I have to say I agree with Aidan's judgment here. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out and about, Albus, when everyone is looking for you—and especially not surrounded by other people who would be in danger if they found you."

Albus shook his head. "You think Wilcox isn't looking for the rest of you, too?"

"Maybe, but not as hard," noted Alec quietly.

"You're on their side?!" burst Albus, spinning to face Alec. "Are you seriously trying to leave me behind? I'm prophesied to defeat Wilcox, for Merlin's sake!"

"Which will be more straightforward if you don't let it go to your head," said Aidan, "and which will be more likely if you don't die in the errand-running that comes before the final fight."

"What do _you_ think, Exo?!" demanded Albus.

Exo reddened. "I… don't think I should say."

Albus felt betrayed, nauseous, furious, far more so than when they simply asked for a delay. Where would Aidan and Alec be without him?

There were several answers as to where they would be without him. They would be stuck in the prison on that Antarctic submarine, and they would never have gotten out. Or else they would have been slain by Werora, whom they only defeated because Albus had connected with her wand. And they wouldn't have known about Wilcox's plans to gather the Natural Sprites. Or his clones. All three of those clones would still be around now, not just two. And Herpo and his servant would still be alive and a thorn in everyone's side—so would the Sandbloods.

The Sandbloods…

"By the way," said Teddy, eager to change the topic of conversation, "if we can manage to find the Horcrux, how are we planning on destroying it? Chinch took the Sword of Gryffindor, and the Sorting Hat is in Auchland's office; the basilisk under Hogwarts no longer has potent venom in its fangs; and I don't see us trying Fiendfyre."

"The Sandblood Sword," said Albus, putting his bag down. Out of it, he extracted the sword that he had stolen from the Sandbloods. "I wonder if it can break a Horcrux…"

Teddy stared at the blade, fascinated. "Sandblood Sword? When did you get that?"

"I was captured by the Sandbloods," said Albus. "I escaped, and took the sword with me. It's goblin-made, and it can reflect spells. It would have to have been infused with basilisk venom, though, in order for it to destroy a Horcrux."

"I wonder if Desulgon knew about that one," said Aidan.

"_Sandblood Sword,_" said Alec to the walls of the _Musings_ room.

Nothing happened; the text for the Propheteers remained.

"_Sandblade?_" offered Exo, but there was still nothing.

"_Sandbloods,_" said Albus, and the text for the radicalized Squib group appeared. It was so dense that it nearly filled every wall with an enormous number of paragraphs, due to how much of an effect they had on the world. He scoured it to see if he could find the word "sword" anywhere.

He finally found the word "sword" in one of the paragraphs, and read through it.

_In addition to the Emollion, the Sandbloods also have obtained Necretia, the famous blade belonging to Tsokr, the last Goblin King—see _Tsokr_—see _Necretia_. This sword has the capacity to intercept spells on its blade and even reflect them, and can only be lifted by a goblin or a Squib, which is obviously of great use to the Sandbloods._

"_Necretia,_" said Albus.

_The ancient blade Necretia most recently belonged to the last Goblin King, Tsokr. This sword has the capacity to intercept spells on its blade and even reflect them._

_Necretia was forged by goblins in the early seventeenth century. It was forged as a gift to Zelle Freeman—see _Zelle Freeman_—the Squib daughter of the first black German Magical Minister, known for spying on her father's political movements and giving reports to the goblins. Felt unloved because she was born a Squib, and rejected by wizardkind, she and some other Squibs formed an allegiance with the goblins, another group rejected by wizardkind, and the goblins gave her Necretia to fight back if she was ever found out to be a spy. They had enchanted other blades to only be lifted by goblins, but they enchanted Necretia so that only a goblin OR a Squib could lift the blade, so that Zelle Freeman could lift it._

_Zelle was imprisoned by her uncle, the rising Dark wizard Montus Freeman, when he found out her associations with the goblins; the sword did not save her. He envied the sword and tried to take it for himself, but could not lift it. He took out his frustrations by torturing and eventually killing Zelle. In retaliation, the goblins killed Montus—a great noble accomplishment, ending that Dark Wizard before he became another household name like Herpo or Voldemort, but which most History of Magic textbooks seem to forget because of underlying biases that cause the school textbook authors to never admit a goblin could do anything good. At any rate, the goblins used Necretia to kill Montus, as poetic justice, and reportedly also used it to kill his basilisk._

Albus threw a hand to his mouth—_the sword might have killed a basilisk._

_Necretia was then brought back to the goblins, where the last Goblin King tried to use it to mount one last assault on wizardkind. Upon his failure, the goblins took Necretia to a museum of theirs instead. Recently, a bargain was struck between the goblins and the Sandbloods, who share animosity towards wizardkind, and who are also the only other group able to make use of the blade. Necretia resides with the Sandbloods now. It could be used to destroy Horcruxes, if it did become infused with basilisk venom—this is an unconfirmed rumor that I have not been able to test—but it might not be very useful in implementation anyway, unless one had access to a Squib or goblin who could carry it._

"It could destroy Horcruxes!" exclaimed Albus, and he nearly hit his head on the ceiling as he magically powered a jump for joy. "_It could destroy Horcruxes!_"

"Wait," said Teddy, squinting. "If it can only be lifted by a Squib or goblin… How is Albus carrying it? It can't be the real Necretia if he is."

"We don't know why," said Aidan, "but Albus was able to lift the sword. It blew the Sandbloods' minds, too, and we still don't know why he can do it."

Teddy looked over at Albus, an eyebrow arced high. "You can lift a sword that wizards aren't supposed to be able to lift. You resisted a mulunctapol that was supposed to drain your magic. And didn't you ostensibly survive a Killing Curse that hit you in your third year in the escape from the Sandbloods? Albus, you are a complete enigma and you keep getting more enigmatic…"

Albus shrugged. "I guess it would be fun to explore what's going on with me, but only as long as we all make it through the war."

"You'll make it through," said Alec. "I'm starting to wonder if you even _can_ be killed."

"Going back to the point," said Albus, "if only I can move the sword, then I guess I'll just have to accompany you, since I'm the only one who can carry it to possibly destroy the Horcrux."

"Or," said Aidan, "it further implies we should keep you here, and bring the Horcrux to you when we find it… because you're the only one who can lift the sword to destroy the Horcruxes, so we can't risk losing you in the attempts to find them, or we wouldn't be able to destroy the Horcruxes when we do find them."

Albus heaved out an angry sigh.

"You should come with us to Azkaban to find where the Horcruxes are, since only you can get in undetected," said Teddy. "But after that… I think the consensus is that you should stay here."

The only response Albus could give was another angry sigh.

Because it killed Albus to admit it to himself… but his friends could very well be right.

O

"You found the fucker yet?"

Wilcox glared at Auchland. "No."

"I thought you were all-knowing and powerful," said Auchland, shaking his head. "You found _every_ Devoctrix user in the _world_ and put an end to them, apart from Desulgon. And you can't find one seventeen-year-old?"

"Like Desulgon," said Wilcox calmly, "Potter knows that we are looking for him. I have reason to believe Desulgon taught him how to hide from me. But I will be checking my sources again soon."

"Your 'sources'," said Auchland. "Am I ever allowed to know who they are and how they know so much?"

"No," said Wilcox. "I will remind you my policy on your speaking to me this way."

Auchland rolled his eyes.

"Any new prophecies of note from our watch over the Seers?"

"No," said Auchland. "In fact, no new prophecies at all."

Wilcox looked over at Auchland, who shrugged.

"Is that normal?"

"No," said Auchland. "Not at all. There hasn't been a single prophecy since your encounter with Potter and Herpo two days ago. There's usually at least five on any given day."

Wilcox Disapparated instantly.

He appeared in front of the stretch of wall that could be used to summon the Room of Requirement. He paced back and forth until it appeared, and then he opened the door.

The shimmering black abyss awaited him; he stepped through the door, into a void without gravity, and floated just beyond the door.

"Can Albus Potter be located?" he asked aloud.

_He cannot,_ replied a ghostly voice inside his head._ He remains in a protected area._

"Any of the Potters, then? Finch-Fletchley? McKinnon? Lupin? My son?"

_It is impossible._

Wilcox cracked his knuckles. "What use is an infinite source of knowledge if it can be limited whenever a barely overage wizard wants? Fine, if I can't find any of my old enemies… tell me this. Have I made any new enemies recently? Has anyone else discovered my work behind the curtains?"

His head was wracked with spasms, and he concentrated hard. He was getting better at reading these vibrations, and he tuned in carefully. An image appeared in his head, slowly growing in clarity as he successfully tuned into the vision: a tall, middle-aged Asian woman in a tight-fitting suit. He knew this woman; she was a Japanese official who routinely liaised with the British Ministry. Aokuro was her name. This image in his head was the answer to his question of if anyone else had found out about his machinations. He'd have to take care of her somehow—Marionette's Medicine, or death if the Japanese government would be able to notice if she were mind-controlled.

"One of my clones is gone," he followed up. "How soon can I triplicate myself again without it affecting my mind?"

_The strain of such an act takes its toll. As always, you may perform it, but it will bring you further to insanity. Another moon at least should pass before you use your Catalyst to clone yourself again._

"Why have there been no prophecies in several days?" he asked next.

_The death of the very first Devoctrix user, Azra Lamenta, has signaled that the very first prophecy is about to be fulfilled—and should it be fulfilled, it will also be the last prophecy to be fulfilled._

Wilcox was genuinely intrigued. "And… what were the contents of the first prophecy?"

_In English translation, it said: "What began as a battle between two shall end as a battle between two. The fall of the first pair shall herald the rise of the last, and the power of the deities shall fall to one or none. The past shall fade away, and the future shall fade away, and the first prophecy shall be the last to be fulfilled before a world is gone and a new world reborn._

"And what does this mean?"

_The initial battle between the two wielding the power of the gods, the Devoctrices, was a clash between Draxler Cordot and Azra Lamenta, the man known as Pyron. Now that Cordot and Lamenta were both slain, every human who has ever purposefully cast a Devoctrix with knowledge of the power behind their actions is deceased, apart from yourself and Albus Severus Potter. Harry Potter cast one, but not with the lore and the intent. Only you and Albus Potter have cast the Devoctrices with the lore and intent. Your altered eyes and souls are proof. This is how it will end as a clash between two. Either one of you will remain after the battle, or neither of you. Neither can live while the other survives._

_As for the final part of the prophecy: The past faded away when those linked to it, namely Cordot and Lamenta, were recently destroyed. And the future will fade away because there will never be prophecies again. The original Seer, Draxler Cordot, has died. He cast the Precognary Devoctrix, also known as the Apportentous Devoctrix, which began the lineage of Seers. Now that he is dead, the effect of the Devoctrix he cast upon himself has disappeared. All Seers have lost their power, and there will be no more prophecies. The last one to be fulfilled will be the last before the new world arises—either the world designed by your efforts to exploit the Devoctrices, the world designed by Albus Potter's efforts to quell them, or the world shaped by the aftereffects of both of your departures from it. And perhaps there will be prophecies again after all is done… but perhaps not. Either way, some parts of the world will never be the same… and some parts will be destroyed forever._

"Fascinating," said Wilcox. "And where will Albus Potter go next, once he has come out of hiding?"

He felt the mental tremors again, and he tried to control them enough to understand them. Through the haze, he focused his vision enough to see stone walls and raging seas. Some sort of fortress on the sea…

He'd have to figure out what this meant and take precautions in whatever area he was seeing. If he had to station guards on every fortress overlooking a body of water, he'd have to do it. He had to know what Albus Potter was planning.

If one were to believe the very first prophecy ever created… Albus Potter was the last obstacle to total world domination. Take out Albus Potter, and his path to world domination was clear.


	22. Skull and Crossroads

_**A few quick clarifications:**_

_**The powers of the Devoctrices generally remain permanently, excepting in a few cases when the main effect is the casting of the power upon oneself. The power of the Seers ended when Cordot died, because it was an effect he'd cast upon himself with the main effect of giving himself the Inner Eye. All subsequent cases were his descendants, and as a side effect. When the main effect left, so did the side effects. In the case of the Barricant Devoctrix, the main effect is to allow the user to cast a barrier that only they may traverse. When they die, the barrier goes away. In the meantime, their descendants (or really, all those who carry their blood, so theoretically someone with a blood or bone marrow transfusion could also qualify) can traverse the barrier as well, but again, that is a side effect. All other Devoctrices (things like the Resurrection Stone, Gryffindor's sword, the Sorting Hat) are permanent. In the case of werewolves, what Cordot did was not just change his own body, but also biologically create the existence of a new infectious disease, the Transfection. His death did not end that Transfection because the main effect wasn't the changing of his own body, it was the creation of that infection. So... since the infection spread... there are still werewolves.**_

_**The Devoctrix referred to in the last chapter which Harry cast: That was the Amivical (sacrificial love protection), and he cast it in JKR's original series. When he went to the forest and died to save everyone in Hogwarts, he cast the Amivical Dev's power upon them, which is why none of the spells cast by Voldemort's forces were binding. That was, and remains, the only Devoctrix Harry has cast. Another important note is that this isn't by any measure a simple process. You must understand that you have a choice between survival and death, and must actively and consciously accept death so to stand in the way of someone else's death. So as an example, one of Albus's classmates couldn't go find a bad guy and ask the bad guy to kill him just to cast the Amivical Devoctrix on Albus. It must be in a situation where you choose between life and death and your sacrifice is in trying to prevent another's death. For example: Lily pleading with Voldemort to spare Harry, and refusing to step aside when asked but continuing to plead, knowing it was death to do so; Harry going to the forest to allow Voldemort to kill him, so that those in the castle would be spared; Uzu in the Hourglass Empire knowing that the Sandbloods thought she was under MM and Imperiused by Poticand, so they would have spared her if she'd simply stood by, but she decided to take a bullet for her friend.**_

_**Hope that helped clarify anything that was foggy about the situations at hand. I think you'll like what's coming in this chapter and the next... Some reviewers are going to be very pleased with their predictions.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SKULL AND CROSSROADS

O

"I want to thank you," said Teddy. "For putting up with us going back and forth so often. It's not the safest thing for you to be doing at this time, being the keepers of the lunar portal. So, thank you."

"Of course," said Rebecca Pinzel. "You were in quite the hurry last time—glad to see Albus is all right. Have any of you yet mastered any spells of Light magic?"

"I'm getting close," said Alec. "I was almost getting it in practice yesterday."

"That will help you immensely," said Rebecca. "Light magic is as strong as its Dark counterpart… though of course both generally depend mostly on the strength of the caster. Given its difficulty, it is rarely achieved, and your enemies would not be expecting it. Like Dark magic, superbly cast Light magic is very difficult to defend against."

"If there is anything else you need from us," said Dodecus, "do not hesitate to call upon us."

"Thank you," said Teddy. "We'll remember it. And we do need something from you on the path to our next destination."

"Where are you off to now?"

"Can't say," said Albus from under the Invisibility Cloak, "but hopefully we don't end up staying."

"Need any help getting there?"

"Yes," said Albus. "We actually need a couple of favors."

"You can make a Portkey," said Teddy, nodding to Rebecca. "Right? You have the training and authority?"

"Well, yes," said Rebecca, "but if you're going for undetected means of travel, I don't think this would be the best choice. And besides, if I am the only one casting a spell on this Portkey, then only one person can ride it. The number of people riding a Portkey can be at most the same number of people who helped to cast the Portkey."

"Well, it would be just Dodecus taking the Portkey," said Albus. "Preferably."

"What good would that do you?" asked Dodecus.

"Would you take the lunar portal with you on the Portkey?" asked Teddy. "And bring the back end of the portal?"

"Oh, I see," said Rebecca. "Smart. You would go back to the moon, and then Dodecus would take the Portkey along with the lunar portal. After he takes the Portkey, you pop back out this end of the portal and all of you would be where you wanted to be."

"Exactly," said Albus. "Which leads us to our second favor… Could we potentially borrow the portal after we come back through it?"

Dodecus held up the shimmering blueberry-sized orb. "You want to take this with you? There is a reason we have been keeping it here under careful watch rather than letting you take it from the outset. You realize what will happen if it is lost… or found? The knowledge that your enemy will obtain?"

"We do," said Aidan. "Fully. It's a necessary risk."

"Then we wish you the best of luck," said Dodecus. "We will entrust you with the portal's care."

"Is it enchanted at all, besides the obvious Devoctrix?" asked Victoire.

"Only the enchantment which makes it levitate, for easier handling and viewing."

"Can you remove it?" asked Victoire. "We need to bring it somewhere that no spells can exist without being detected… Devoctrices aren't spells, but we can't have the other spell on the portal if we want its presence to go unnoticed."

As Dodecus lifted the enchantment on the lunar portal, Rebecca stepped forward and whispered a question to Teddy.

"No, they're all going to be fine," answered Teddy. "It will take a while for her to recover, but Cynthia is seeing to that while she mends her own hand with Muggle medicine. And Aethan is staying up there for further research to aid our cause, and standing guard in case any unwanted visitors manage to enter the base."

"Thank goodness," said Rebecca. "Where would you like the Portkey to lead?"

"The largest magical hub in Denmark, an island city called Sigbjerg about a hundred and fifty miles offshore in the North Sea," answered Teddy. "Have you ever been? Oh, and one Portkey to take us back here."

"I've been to Sigbjerg on many occasions, yes," said Rebecca. "Don't worry; I know where to send you. I'll get on that now." She turned away from them and picked up two ornamental candles, one red and one green, and began working complicated magic upon them. "Green will be to take you there. Red to take you back."

"Dodecus—if you would—we'd like you to come through the other end of the portal once you've arrived," said Victoire. "Once you've found a safe place for us to reappear, if you would come through to tell us, and we can all go back together. The portal would only be unattended for the amount of time it takes you to come here and for us all to immediately go back."

"I can do that for you," said Dodecus. "Head through the portal at any time and I will visit when it is safe to come through. As long as you promise to all be ready to go the moment I arrive. It would not be wise to leave the portal unattended for more than a few seconds."

They gave their assurances to Dodecus and Rebecca, thanked them profusely, and as Rebecca finished with the Portkey, they stared into the orb and were brought back through to the moon base again.

It wasn't even five minutes before Dodecus came back through; without a word, they all hurried towards where he landed. Once Aidan, Alec, Teddy, and Victoire were all there, Teddy called out, "Albus? You with us?"

"I'm here," said Albus, still under the Invisibility Cloak; he slipped his arm under one of the folds to give a thumbs-up to Teddy.

Teddy fired a spell towards the large laser cannon that hung from the ceiling, aimed at the landing spot to the moon base. The laser fired in response, and they were disintegrated, drifting without a body through a dark void until the world was reconstructed around them as they appeared by Dodecus's side in what looked like a storeroom to a clothing shop. The labels were in Danish.

"Thank you so much," said Albus. "We know how inconvenient this is for you."

Dodecus chuckled; they were all nervous for a moment, since he didn't often show emotion. His gray brow settled back down as he gave a small shrug. "Children, I was imprisoned for seventy-five years… I'll survive the wait for the next Oceania Rail." He sighed. "And speaking of prison… I don't suppose it's a coincidence that you've asked to be brought to the middle of the North Sea… the sea that hosts Azkaban prison?"

The group exchanged looks.

"Let's call that a coincidence," said Alec.

Dodecus cracked a smile. "Be careful, all of you. Getting in will be easier—but prisons are built very specifically to keep anyone from getting out."

He bent down and picked up the small silver sphere on the floor—the entry point and exit point of the lunar portal. He handed it to Teddy. When nobody said anything else, he nodded to them, and then turned and Disapparated.

"Okay," said Teddy. "We're actually very close. The broom ride to Azkaban should take about two hours. I can find Azkaban, since I'm a Ministry official and it's otherwise Unplottable, Untraceable, and Un-a-lot-of-things-able. So when we get close, you'll have to all be in constant contact with my broom in order for you to be able to find Azkaban… otherwise it'll look like I'm disappearing into thin air and you won't see me anymore. Tethered by rope is fine. It will be about a two hour flight from here."

He cast Connectivity Charms on each of them and a Disillusionment Charm on himself, as did everyone else except for Albus under the Invisibility Cloak. Albus cast a charm to wrap the Cloak tightly so it wouldn't fly off, and they slowly climbed the stairs. It was night, and the store was unoccupied. There seemed to be no alarm, or perhaps it only went off if someone attempted to steal anything from the store. They walked out the door without incident, and lifted off, following Teddy through the air, and casting charms to protect their skin against the wind and chill.

After two full hours of flying through the freezing January night, Teddy's voice rang out in Albus's head. _We're close. I'm making myself visible. Wrap ropes around my broom._

As he flickered into view, Albus, Aidan, Alec, and Victoire cast ropes from their wands, which wrapped around the end of Teddy's broom. They wrapped the other end of the rope tightly around their own brooms, and then continued on slowly. The air rippled in a way Albus wasn't used to feeling, and then they stopped again; Albus instinctively knew they'd just passed through the barrier. He peered through the distance, but with no urban light sources, it was pitch black, and he couldn't see the castle.

_Time to go, Albus,_ said Teddy. _Back to the moon. Here's the portal._

Teddy's hand became visible, holding the lunar portal. Albus flew in close, and looked deeply into the lunar portal.

_Ten minutes,_ came Teddy's voice, right before he disappeared. _Remember, ten minutes at least. I can guarantee you're in after that, or if we're held up somehow and cutting it close, I'll keep the portal and you can go back again._

The world dissolved around Albus, and he appeared back in the lunar base.

Exo was sitting at the chess table, and hit the timer, which was set for the proper time. "Is it still ten minutes?" he asked.

"Yes," said Albus.

"Brilliant plan, by the way," said Exo. "Since any human presence is detected and even inanimate objects larger than an insect can't cross into the premises without being detected. I would never have thought of it."

"Aidan is great at thinking outside the box that way," said Albus.

He stood on the landing platform and looked around the moon base. After this mission, they wanted him to stay here until they brought him a Horcrux to destroy. His skin prickled with anger at the thought. He didn't care how irrational it was for him to want to stay down there and keep fighting. Something, some part of him that was illogical but that he still felt was correct, felt like he was needed down there. Something else was going to happen…

He counted down the minutes by imagining what was happening in each of them. Minute one, Teddy and the others were flying up to close proximity with Azkaban. Minute two, they were scattering to their planned positions around the fortress. Minute three, Teddy was wrapping the lunar portal carefully in padded foam so that it wouldn't break when he threw it; and, inside the wrappings, sealing the end of the long, invisibly thin spool of thread they'd brought with them. Minute four, Teddy was finding the window that they had picked out, closest to Siobor's cell. By minute five, Teddy had probably already flung the swaddled sphere through the barred window, holding it on a line so that he could pull it out if he needed to.

They probably finished the tasks even faster than that, but the ten minutes was the safeguard they'd decided on. When Albus transformed into his coyote form and took the portal, if his friends had been able to accomplish all of those bullet points, Albus would reappear inside Azkaban. He carried nothing magical with him—only Swait's knife, the Resurrection Stone, and Dumbledore's Hocus-Focuser, which were Devoctrical rather than magical, just like the lunar portal, and would not set off alarms. Since nothing enchanted with normal magic would enter Azkaban, Azkaban's alarm system would not detect him, and since he would be in his Animagus form when he entered directly into the prison's interior, he wouldn't be detected for being an intruding human either. Then, he would go to Siobor and deliver the letter they had handwritten, so Albus didn't have to return to his human form to converse with Siobor, which would set off the alarms. If Siobor didn't want to talk, Albus would have to turn human again and break into Siobor's mind to find the answers; being in Azkaban, Siobor would be sufficiently weak and susceptible to the mental intrusion. Even if he set off the alarms for a moment, after that, it was just a matter of yanking on the string that Teddy was holding, and Teddy would know that this signified Albus was returning to the moon in a few seconds. Albus would go back through the portal, and whether or not he'd set off the alarms, there would be no way he or any of the others would be caught once Teddy pulled the portal back. Everyone but Teddy would go through the portal and then Teddy would take the Portkey back to Rebecca. It was a remarkably solid plan for the little time they'd taken to conceive it.

He looked over at the timer by the chess table. There were still three minutes left. He unfolded the letter to slowly read it over again, to pass the time.

_Ivan Siobor,_

_This is Albus Potter. You have tried to kill me in the past, but now we share a common enemy: the one who threw you into Azkaban to save his own hide. You know who I'm talking about: not the Man in the Shadows, Obydin Auchland, but Helio Wilcox, the man in the shadows behind the Man in the Shadows._

_We know that you have information regarding the Horcruxes that Wilcox has created. Tell us everything you know. This is a small measure of revenge you can take against him for betraying you and still not freeing you. Make no mistake, Wilcox will be defeated either way… but you may, as thanks, receive more comfortable accommodations once Wilcox is defeated, if you were to help us in the effort._

_Tell us about Wilcox's Horcruxes, or I will take the knowledge by force. And you may yet see a floor that isn't stone._

_-Albus Potter_

They might not be able follow through on that promise at the end—Siobor was a mass murderer, after all—but that wasn't the piece he was concerning himself about the most right now. Lying to Siobor wasn't exactly the worst thing they'd done so far.

"One minute," said Exo, noticing at the same time. "You ready?"

Albus closed his eyes and concentrated, transforming into his animal form. He trotted in place to get used to his coyote legs again, and nodded to Exo. Exo picked up the letter and placed it on Albus's leg, then tied a ribbon around it to hold it in place. Then Exo threw the Invisibility Cloak over Albus.

Exo patiently waited for the clock to reach zero seconds exactly, and then he fired off the spell into the cannon that shot the laser which disintegrated Albus, sending him back to the planet's surface—and this time, he reappeared in a dark stone hallway, softly touching onto the floor.

He was next to a window. Looking down, he saw the small sheathed sphere that had brought him there. So far, so perfect. He slid the sphere into a crevice to hide it.

He had memorized the path to Siobor's containment. Facing as if he'd entered through the window, turn to the right and go, then take a right; two lefts around the staircase, and right at the second hallway to arrive at Siobor's prison cell, which was fourth in the row. He would be passing Milo's cell on the way, but he couldn't make any attempt to reach out. He couldn't try to improvise anything on this mission… he almost got a hundred Aurors killed when he did that on his mission to spy on the Sandbloods.

He walked carefully on the pads of his feet, trying not to let his claws tap on the stone. The ends of the Cloak slid across the floor as he slunk through the complex, though, and the letter tied to his leg crinkled with every step; in the absolute silence of the hardened prison, the dragging Cloak sounded like a waterfall, and the letter like someone rustling through a potato chip bag as they stepped through crunchy autumn leaves. Most of the prisoners crawled forward to the front of the jail cells to investigate… auditory anomalies must not be very common in a rigid place like this. The dim torchlight illuminated their faces; drained and gaunt, but not as bad as they probably would have been if Azkaban still used Dementors.

Albus passed Milo's cell, the first in the row leading to Siobor. Milo looked up at the sound, too. His cell was close enough that he would probably hear whatever conversation he was able to eke out of Siobor… hopefully only his memory was modified, and not his whole mind. He hadn't considered the possibility that one of the other prisoners might still have loyalty to Wilcox and shout out when they discovered Albus's presence.

Albus stopped in front of Siobor's cell. Siobor was awake, but if he had heard the slight noises, he didn't care a whit about them; he still sat with his back to the far wall, his head tilted down. His fingers were all gone; he had fastened ten wands to the places where his fingers had been, but Harry's use of the Elder Wand had disarmed him so strongly that it ripped all of his wand-fingers out. Siobor was entirely a lame duck now, and Wilcox, knowing he had no use for the man anymore, hadn't cared about Siobor getting sent to Azkaban and hadn't bothered to have him freed in the time since, despite freeing many others. This had to leave Siobor with a grudge, and reason enough to throw Wilcox under the bus to them now.

Albus clawed the ribbon down his leg, then slid the letter into Siobor's prison cell.

Siobor looked up this time. Albus had wondered which of his several appearances was the real Siobor, and it appeared to be the heavily scarred face. Siobor crawled forward on his elbows, and using the stumps just past his wrists, he maneuvered the letter open and held down either end, preventing it from rolling back up. He looked up sharply, looking around outside the cage.

"I don't want more comfortable confines," he grunted softly. "You have to promise me something better." He licked his lips. "The death penalty. I want out. If I help you."

Albus blew air out of his nostrils in assent; he didn't want to take the Cloak off and ruin the surprise that he was an Animagus. He didn't know yet whether he planned on following through on either offer—Siobor deserved to suffer, not to have comfort, or an easy way out. But he didn't have to decide that right now either. All he needed was the information Siobor had, and if it took this promise to get it, he was going to make it even if he ended up with no intention of fulfilling it.

Siobor nodded. "All right," he said quietly. "He's got one that he kept in Siberia. I helped create the defenses for it. It's in a graveyard—it's the skull of his dead wife."

Albus bit back a gag reflex. That was just _messed up._ He would check the Siberian icescape, but it had likely been moved since Milo had almost found it. Where would it have been moved? Probably somewhere that no one would be able to locate it like that again… He'd have to deduce that later if he could. Siobor still needed to tell him about the other Horcrux first.

"The other," said Siobor, "is—"

"Who the hell are you talking to?!" came a shout from another prisoner down the hallway.

"Myself," barked Siobor. "Fuck off."

"I'd like to, wouldn't I? Stuck here, though."

"The second one," whispered Siobor, "is a glass—"

Suddenly, the alarms blared. Albus jumped a mile high. He hadn't turned back into a human, or popped out from under the Cloak—had someone spotted the lunar portal? But he had hidden it well in a crevice, and the line was so thin it couldn't be seen unless you already knew it was there, especially in this light…

Siobor cleared his throat, sensing urgency. "The second is hidden well in an ancient pyramid in Mexico that's barred from public entry due to extraordinarily powerful curses. It's a glass g—"

A bullet-like curse suddenly sliced through the air, slicing through one of the prison bars on its way to Siobor. It flew into Siobor's open mouth, and burst out the back, leaving a spray of blood on the wall behind him as he sank to the floor, convulsing.

Albus bit back his breath as a Propheteer—unmistakably a Propheteer—strode forward from the direction in which he'd been heading, and reached through the bars, picking up the letter and scanning it. Another fighter was behind him, and another was coming from behind Albus.

The one holding the letter waved a hand; red-orange halos appeared over each of their heads, and a dim one over Siobor's, but not over Albus's head. They were using a spell to reveal human presence, but Albus was currently a coyote.

"We know you're here, Potter," said one of the Propheteers. "Three days, Potter. That's how long it's been since the last prophecy. Three days. Prophecies have not happened, ever since you escaped the prophecy saying you should die with Pyron once Wilcox and Herpo were destroyed. Now that you've deviated from a prophecy, the world has stopped prophesizing. Do you know what this means?"

"It means you've taken the world towards its destruction for all of eternity," said another Propheteer, arriving for even more backup. They scanned the area carefully, talking loudly so that Albus could hear them wherever he was. "The lack of prophecies is proof. Our council has discovered that the only way to possibly rectify the events, and have the prophecies return, is to fix what went wrong in the prophecy that has been defied: you must die. Now."

Suddenly, there were soft, rapid footsteps in the direction Albus had come from; the Propheteers snapped into full speed and charged that way. Albus had no idea what could have caused the noise, until he remembered that Milo was down that way, and had probably heard them addressing him by name. It was the only explanation he could imagine—Milo might have caused the distraction by tapping his feet on the ground to sound like running, and might have just saved his life.

He turned back to Siobor. A glass "g" was not enough information. He had to know the full extent of the story… Wilcox's vulnerability depended on it. Staying under the Invisibility Cloak, he turned back into his human form, and the alarms screeched even louder, so loudly that he almost couldn't concentrate hard enough to cast any spells, which he supposed was the point.

Like a whip, he lashed out his pent-up mental energy onto Siobor, and broke through into the evil man's mind.

It felt like diving into a scummy pond, being inside the mind of someone so depraved, but he had to stick it out. Not for long, though, in case they could track his presence now that he was human again. He surveyed, like looking at the ground from up really high on a broom; finding what looked like a memory involving a pyramid and something made of glass, he injected himself into that part of Siobor's mind and forced it to the surface. It was a glass goblet, and as he gleaned from scraps of thoughts that he seized like searching through a menu, it used to belong to the ancient Dark witch Morgana, or Morgan le Fay, King Arthur's half-sister. It was inside a pyramid that was next to a pit of white fire that was still burning even today—it was enchanted to never go out. Muggles were kept out of both of these spots historically, though they had started visiting the surrounding sites since the International Statute of Secrecy was abolished and the Global Revelation took place. But everyone was still kept out of the pyramid itself.

That was what he needed. Albus started to leave Siobor's mind, already worrying he'd spent too long inside there. But as he was leaving, he caught a glimpse of something else—just a fleeting glimpse, like through the window of a speeding train, but he had to go back for it. This could help immensely if he was correct, and it looked like he was—it was Siobor's memories of flying on the jets of magic from his wand-fingers. Siobor had invented this technique for flight, but it didn't seem to require severing any fingers—just the right incantation and intention. Albus studied both for a few seconds, gathering as much information as he could scrape off of the surface to practice it later.

Siobor's memories started to go dark as his mind slipped into unconsciousness, or possibly death. Not willing to see what death looked like, and feeling he desperately needed to get back anyway, Albus jumped back into his own body.

The only problem was that Milo had lured the Propheteers in the direction that Albus needed to go, too. There weren't any around him right now, but an Auror was rounding the opposite corner. There were already sounds of duels—it appeared that the Aurors were making appearances now to fend off the Propheteers, who they possibly thought were breaking into Azkaban to free the prisoners. Or they possibly thought the Propheteers were here to kill the inmates, considering what the Auror just saw as he passed Siobor's cell. Either way, it was good that their fighting was focused on each other… to avoid being detected, Albus had not brought in a wand, in case it could be sensed even through his clothes and pocket contents combining with him into his Animagus form.

_Teddy!_ thought Albus desperately, but there was no response; his Connectivity Charm had been removed to avoid detection. Albus turned back into a coyote and ran under cover of the noises and flashes of the duels occurring throughout the prison facility.

He ran towards the stairwell. Propheteers above were fighting Aurors below, and the Aurors looked outmatched, having no experience fighting people so skilled that they transcended wand use. Albus ducked and weaved around the legs, his heart pounding furiously as he hoped nobody saw any movement or heard the gentle scraping of the Cloak against the stone.

One Propheteer turned his head in Albus's direction, but was instantly preoccupied by an Auror who dropped from above to engage him in a duel. Albus ran towards the window where he'd entered—

"I've sensed something!"

Albus's limbs seized in terror at the shout, but then the Propheteer ran past him. He relaxed for a moment, but only for a moment—the Propheteer picked up the orb.

"Devoctrix of some sort," he said, and unwrapped it slightly; he looked deeply into the orb, fascinated.

If the Propheteer looked into the orb any longer, he was going to teleport directly into the moon base.

Albus turned back into a human, and reached into his pocket. He left nothing magical in his pockets to avoid detection—but he had the Bloodblade—

He took the Bloodblade and the quill he'd used to write the letter from his pockets, and stood up. He sped towards the Propheteer, who was distracted by the world dissolving away as he stared into the orb, and didn't notice Albus approaching. Albus reached both arms out from under the cloak, and stabbed the quill and the Bloodblade into both eyes of the Propheteer.

The Propheteer dropped the orb, screeching in literally blinding pain, and was throwing wandless magic in all directions. Albus was struck in his midsection, and his knees buckled as he lurched forward, clutching his stomach. He gathered himself back together, leaned over, and sank the Bloodblade into the Propheteer's heart—since Albus had already cut the Propheteer with the Bloodblade, he couldn't risk the Propheteer saying the word _blood_ and summoning the blade away from him, so as much as it sickened him, the man had to die to ensure that didn't happen.

He keeled over to one side with the pain of the prior blow to his stomach, but he could still see the casing of the lunar portal which had been slightly unraveled, revealing the surface of the sphere that he could stare into to be teleported to the lunar base. He forced his watering eyes open, and stared into the orb so he could escape—

The orb lifted off the ground and was whisked out the window.

Teddy had felt the tugging on the string, and had taken it to mean Albus had signaled that he was about to head into the moon base. Albus's injured stomach tossed and turned. Teddy and all of the others were going to leave now—he had no wand, no way to signal that he was still here. He was stuck in Azkaban.

He rolled towards the wall as Propheteers came running to investigate their fallen friend, and Albus turned back into a coyote as they cast human-presence-revealing spells. Albus noted that there wasn't one over the body of the Propheteer, and he vaguely pondered what it would do to his soul that he'd killed this man.

There would be time to grieve and repent for the murder later, but only if he didn't waste time doing it now. He shuffled the Cloak around until it was awkwardly but adequately covering the coyote's body that he wasn't used to having, and he stumbled, injured and on unsure footing, back towards the duels.

He stopped at a pair of unmoving Auror bodies, Stunned or killed. He transformed back into his body, and grabbed up the wands clutched in the cold hands of each fallen fighter.

He snuck around a duel, careful of the redirected spells bouncing close to him, and crept up to a Propheteer who was alone in a hallway, dueling two Aurors. The Propheteer knocked out one of the Aurors, and swiftly punished the other shortly afterwards. But he was alone, and did not suspect when Albus walked around behind him and placed a whispered Imperius Curse on the back of his neck.

They were extraordinarily magically powerful, and Albus could feel this one wrestling furiously against his mental grip, but Albus used his mental intrusion skills to suppress the original mind of the Propheteer while the Imperius Curse took hold; he had the Propheteer mentally communicate to the others that Potter was spotted outside.

Shortly after this new development, the Propheteers gathered in the next hallway down, and together they produced a burst of shimmering energy that brought an entire one of the walls crumbling down, all the way from the top floor to the bottom. They soared out, flying with no physical assistance. Albus shuddered at the display of the power that he was up against.

He shrugged the Cloak on tight, cast a spell to keep it tight-fitting again, and he accessed the memories he'd just downloaded from Siobor. He set his arms straight on either side, took a deep breath, and extended his wands behind him with the mental command of _Pelsurg Aerigaeno!_

Immediately, his wands were firing jets of spells that didn't damage the wall behind him, but were propelling him forward at more intense speeds than he'd ever experienced on a broom, including on a Soundsplitter. He tumbled out of control through the air, blasting in one direction and then the next; and though the Cloak stuck fast, his wands were exposed, and the jets shooting out were like beacons. Not to mention that he had just informed every Propheteer that Albus was outside of Azkaban, and had now just propelled himself outside, while attracting as much attention as humanly possible.

Every Propheteer was closing in on him from all directions, firing spells, and he couldn't get himself pointed straight with the violence of the propulsion spell he'd picked up from Siobor's dying mind. The only benefit to this was that, being completely out of control, his movements were unpredictable and all of their assaults were missing. He strained to fly as high as he possibly could—his bearings were all messed up and he couldn't see Azkaban through the dark; he didn't know whether he was flying towards it or away from it. He at least needed to get to a place where he could Disapparate. If he flew very high in the air, he was guaranteed to break away from the zone around Azkaban where he couldn't Disapparate—upwards was the only direction where he could be sure he was moving in a direction that was _away_ from Azkaban.

As the Propheteers closed in under him, their strikes were getting closer, and they were certainly aiming to kill—they wanted him dead so that the prophecies could restart, or something. But it didn't matter why they wanted it… what mattered was that they were very close to getting it. And even if they just disabled him, a fall from this height would certainly do their job for them.

Albus spun in the air and held his wands slightly further out, so that the jets would fly all around and scare the Propheteers into scattering; it worked, but then the force of the propulsions snapped his arms back to his sides with such force that one of the wands was ripped from his hand.

He didn't dare descend to catch it; wobbling furiously, he continued on his upward arc with one wand, a game of balance that he was losing. His hand was shaking, sending him in a crazed zigzag pattern on his ascent, and his grip on the wand felt like it was being pried off, like he was dangling from a ledge on his fingers for too long and his grip was slipping. He forced himself further up, and then he felt a ripple in the air, a familiar ripple that told him he was outside of Azkaban's area of influence—

The first place he thought to flee where the surface world could not see him was the Hourglass Empire. He swiftly pulled the Bloodblade out with his free hand and cut himself slightly on the side of his neck so he could summon the knife later; then, he dropped it into the ocean, so that he could use the Hocus-Focuser to find the Hourglass Empire and it wouldn't just point to the Bloodblade. Then, he released the jet of Siobor's flight spell, and he turned in the air to Disapparate.

That was a horrific mistake. Possibly the last one he would ever make. He'd had the presence of mind to cut himself with the Bloodblade and drop it, but not the presence of mind to realize how far he was trying to Apparate. He was ripped through the squeezing tube of Apparition, and he felt gouging pains in his skin. He appeared high in the air and immediately plummeted down towards the sand. He was somewhere in Egypt—or possibly anywhere in the Sahara, since the Apparition was so far and he may not have been exact.

He flew head over heels—or in the singular, head over _heel,_ rather, as he rolled to a stop and realized that his left heel was actually missing—Splinched off. He looked to his other leg, bent at the most awkward of angles, and his kneecap was partially missing. White bone cast a macabre sheen in the moonlight and the coarse sand was sticking to his blood and grinding painfully into his wounds. What else? Part of his cheek and jaw, judging by the gushing blood drenching his neck and right shoulder. His calf on the same leg as his missing heel. Two of his toes on the right foot. His left thumb. A fair amount of the left side of his hindquarters and back upper thigh. A chunk of the back of his skull. Maybe more, too. He didn't know. His body was only maybe seventy percent intact, and all that was on his mind was that he was bleeding himself out and mashing salt from the desert sands into his open wounds. He was about to pass out.

But then he remembered Wilcox following them through their Apparitions, and he knew he had to move. Especially if he was injured, and especially if he was so out in the open like this. If he got to the Hourglass Empire, he would be able to get some help. He took out the Hocus-Focuser, which was incredibly awkward to hold in his thumbless left hand, and extended his wand, which wasn't even obeying him properly since he'd only snatched it from an incapacitated Auror and hadn't won it for himself.

The metallic bird in the Hocus-Focuser was already meekly jabbing its beak in one direction. Albus directed his wand at the ground, and propelled himself into the air with Siobor's spell; he expected it to be weaker in his diminished state, but in fact he seemed to be traveling even faster than before… but then, after all, he'd just lost a lot of weight. Or maybe his mind was just slowing down and perceiving it as faster.

He flew onward, the wind searing his torn flesh. The Hocus Focuser became more and more agitated as he approached the Devoctrix it was pointing to, assumedly the Empire. He looked under him and was distressed to see the telltale trail of copious blood he was leaving on the sand wherever he flew. He turned slightly off his course to lead them astray. Then, he turned back on course, and worked up the concentration to kick up a tornado of energy behind him, concealing the trail and hiding the direction in which he'd turned.

They were bound to come after him soon, though. They'd found him in Azkaban despite the fact that, the entire time, he was under the Invisibility Cloak and was in his coyote form. The only way to guarantee they wouldn't track him down was to find the Hourglass Empire and get his arse in there… or at least, half of his arse, considering the other half had plummeted past the Propheteers into the North Sea.

He caught sight of movement and looked down. In the moonlight, he could see the outline of a person's body, but a grotesque and disfigured one, with skin constantly falling off its rotting body and regrowing as it loped in pursuit at an inhuman speed. It raised a skeletal arm, and it was holding a _wand—_

A distant memory of a conversation with Aidan popped into his head, when they had first spotted a Reflesh, another undead magical creature, roaming the Egyptian sands looking for people who were seeking the Hourglass Empire. An emissary of Herpo the Foul—or now that he was dead, possibly Wilcox. _"Don't tell me it can use magic…"_ he had asked._ "It can use magic,"_ Aidan had replied.

A spell flew up at Albus and missed him by less than a foot—in fact, if his entire foot had been there, it might have grazed him. He adjusted his direction, and the bird adjusted its angle greatly—but if the bird was turning that much from a slight variation in his flight path, then geometrically that meant he was close—

And then the bird flipped directions completely, and he knew he had just passed over it. He scrambled in the air to redirect himself in the other direction… But shouldn't he be entering the Empire already? He had been dripping so much blood this entire time. Maybe the blood had missed the pillar by the tiniest of margins, he just had to find the pillar and fly over it and he'd be safe—but he couldn't see it anywhere—

His energy gave out all at once. The wand he had snagged from a random Auror rejected his weak final efforts, and the flight spell sputtered out as the wand slipped from his hand. His momentum carried him a few hundred feet before he crashed into the sand, a spell flying over his head from the Reflesh. His wand clattered next to him, but he was too exhausted to even reach over to grab it. The only thing that separated him from the zombie creature was a sand dune, which it scaled so fast… And the pillar for the Hourglass Empire was nowhere to be seen.

Hope was fleeing as fast as the Reflesh was approaching. His vision began to leave him, and his eyes fluttered shut, not wanting to see what happened next.

There was an unexpected sound—a hinge, like a door opening. He opened his eyes, and a woman stepped out of midair.

A hidden house. Albus could only barely see what was happening, but he saw the woman pull back her wand like an arrow in a bow—a Light Magic spell he'd only seen Rebecca Pinzel use. Had Rebecca found him here? But this woman looked younger. Was this the Devoctrix he'd unintentionally found? Someone's house that they'd hidden in the desert using a Devoctrix?

An arrow of light snapped out of her wand and pierced the creature through the heart. It gave a wretched shriek and toppled over backwards. A man ran out behind her, and jabbed his wand at the creature, which burst apart, body parts flying in every direction.

He turned around. Albus wanted to croak out a "thank you," but he was completely seized by pain and blood loss, and he was slipping away, fast. He saw the man raise his wand, and he hoped they would act fast with healing spells.

But the spell the man yelled was not one that Albus was expecting to hear.

"_Obliviate!_"

O

"What do you mean?!" demanded Aidan. "Teddy said he felt the tug on the line—he reeled it in because he thought—no, it can't be—"

"He's not here!" cried Exo. "I've been here the whole time, I've been watching—Albus didn't come through!"

The landing area glowed again, and Teddy entered. "Everyone here?"

"No," said Exo, his fists clenched. "He's not here. He never showed up."

"Albus!" called Teddy, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice through the whole base. "Albus, are you here?! Are you under the Cloak?"

"I'm telling you," said Exo, tears streaming down his face. "He didn't show. He wouldn't have failed to notify me he'd returned, and I never saw the portal glowing. He's not here."

"Oh no," whispered Victoire, a hand to her mouth.

Alec slumped against a wall of the base. "He's impossible to kill," he murmured, more to himself. "Wilcox said so himself. Albus has had much worse odds. He'll… he'll make it through this. He'll find a way to escape, squirm away. He always does."

"How many times can he do it before his luck runs out?" asked Aidan quietly.

"Stop," snapped Alec. "Stop it. We'll find him."

Aidan looked away.

"We should have planned more," said Teddy, grasping his hair, which turned bright red in frustration. "We should have had contingencies. In case this happened. Damn it! Fuck! _Fuck!_"

"We still don't know where Wilcox's Horcruxes are," said Victoire, clenching her teeth. "We need to find Albus."

"I'm going back down," said Teddy, walking right back to the portal. "I'm going to find him. I failed once with Desulgon—I won't again."

"We'll try Janelle," said Victoire, following him onto the landing platform. "Janelle Lombard—my nieces are friends with her. I don't know if what she has for Albus could be true love yet… But it's worth a try."

"We're coming, too," said Alec, and he gave Aidan a pointed look. Aidan nodded and followed him to Teddy and Victoire. "We'll find a way back up to the Propheteers' base and see if he's there."

"Stay up here," said Teddy to Exo. "Your father is still looking for you, since you're such a loose end. Stay up here, and if Albus gets here somehow, tell him to go back and tell Rebecca to notify us with the Reen indicator—we'll give her one."

Teddy wasted no time, and fired a spell into the laser. They were blasted back to Earth instantly.

Exo staggered his way over to a chair and put his head in his hands. They couldn't lose their most important fighter. If it had dealt this big of a blow to just their small group, what would it do to the world?

O

Albus slowly opened his eyes.

It was a nice room he was in, patterned with earth tones. He was on a comfortable bed. He looked around. It wasn't the hotel of the Propheteers—they would have killed him if they'd captured him, not put him back up in the hotel. And it wasn't the moon base. No sheets of silver metal, no window showing the Earth.

He strained his memory, but his mind was so weak from before… the memories weren't coming back… He stretched his sore muscles. He looked in surprise at his left hand to see that his thumb was back. Didn't he lose that? In an Apparition, fleeing the Propheteers? It slowly started to crest back over the horizon of his memory.

"Oh," said a low voice. "Awake? You feeling any better?"

He turned his head to the other side, and focused his gaze. A man, a tall man who was perhaps five or ten years older than his father, was looking over his shoulder at Albus, stirring something in a pot. He was standing in a kitchen that Albus could see through one of the room's two doorways. Above the sink was a moving picture in a frame… two people, a man and a woman, solemnly holding hands.

Albus turned his mind back from the present to the past, trying to recall how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered was the man in the kitchen shouting "_Obliviate._" But _that_ couldn't have been right… If that were true, he wouldn't have remembered it.

"Are you okay?" asked the man, though he didn't enter the guest room that Albus was in, maybe to avoid making Albus nervous. "What do you remember?"

"I was… you were…" Albus struggled to answer. He couldn't give an answer that revealed any part of his identity, in case this man was tied to Wilcox… no, if he was tied to Wilcox, Albus would already be dead. And if Albus revealed that he remembered what had happened, would this man wipe his mind again if he realized the first time hadn't worked?

"The potion in the white bottle will help you gather your thoughts back up if you're disoriented," said the man, turning his head back to the stove to stir his pot. "The blue one will help you get back to sleep if you're still a bit overwhelmed."

But if the man had really intended to wipe his mind, Albus suspected he wouldn't have brought Albus in here, fixed up his wounds, and let Albus wake up in his house.

"Did you cast a Memory Charm on me?" asked Albus.

"I almost did," said the man, but he still didn't turn around to face Albus. "We don't like visitors very much around here. But she made me stop." He gestured up at the picture frame, pointing at the woman. "Said you look a lot like Harry Potter looked when she knew him. I noticed the resemblance too, after we cleaned off all the blood."

"When she…" Albus shook his head. He was in a random house in Egypt… but this man was talking like the woman had _personally_ known his father. "What?"

"This is all probably best explained when she gets home," said the man. "For reasons you'll understand, er, when she gets home. I don't think I should introduce myself until then."

Albus was incredibly confused.

"Are you comfortable?" asked the man. "Do you need anything else?"

"I'm fine," said Albus. "I just want to know who you are and what's going on."

"We'll explain when she gets home," repeated the man.

"Will she be home soon?"

"Before dinner, most likely," said the man. "She's out looking for your things."

"I didn't have any things," said Albus. "Just the wand."

"No? You came all the way out here without any personal items except a wand, and the frantic caged bird and broken rock in your pocket? What about the broom that I assume you must have used to get out here?"

"I…" Albus reddened. Should he tell this stranger that he didn't even have a broom—that he was flying just on the power of his wand? But he said that his wife, or whoever this woman was, had known Albus's father… That brought up, again, the question of _who were these people?_ From the back, and from the sliver Albus saw of his face, the man looked somewhat familiar, like Albus had seen his picture around a lot. But he hadn't seen the man in person before, so he couldn't place it exactly.

Then there was the sound of a door opening.

"I didn't find anything," said a woman's voice. "Nothing at all. Either he lost his stuff a long way back, or it's already been recovered by another party."

"He says he didn't bring anything with him."

"He says—oh—you mean he's awake?"

The woman stepped into view, and Albus saw her for the first time.

His jaw dropped.

It _couldn't_ be.


	23. The Pandoran Catalyst

_**Conspiracy theorists, rejoice... You're about to be vindicated.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE PANDORAN CATALYST

O

It was Adelina Nelson.

He recognized her instantly from all of the action figures, the comic books, the posters, the articles… Green-gray eyes, sharp jaw and high cheekbones, jet-black hair with silver streaks. She was nearly twice as old as the depictions he'd seen of the teen, but it was her, through and through. To prove it further, he knew she was a Parselmouth like her nephew Sylvester had been, and there was a snake sliding up around her shoulders. She spoke to it in a soothing hiss as it seemed to react defensively to Albus's presence. The snake hissed back to her and curled around her neck like a necklace.

But that meant… the man in the kitchen was…

Finally, he turned around fully. Gazing at Albus were his two differently-colored eyes. Brown and red.

Gallen Ingot.

Adelina Nelson was living in a hidden house in the desert… with Gallen Ingot.

That proved it. The Chaos Contagion _had_ taken his mind a while back. He was insane.

"You're not insane," said Nelson, sensing his concern. "It's us. I promise you that you are safe here. There's nothing to worry about. You'll heal and rest and recover with us, and you'll be fighting fit in no time."

"B—but—" Albus choked on his words; there were too many trying to come up at once. "But you're both dead—" He pointed to Gallen Ingot. "And you're evil!"

"I was… misguided… for a very long time," said Ingot, sighing.

"You killed countless people."

Ingot grimaced. "_Super_ misguided," he added.

"But you're dead," repeated Albus, more specifically to Ingot. "Your body was in the Ministry of Magic. My dad has seen it."

"Glad to hear that worked well," said Ingot. "Long story."

"I don't have anywhere to be," said Albus. It was true—now that he'd missed the connection back to the moon, he'd have to find his friends, but he had no idea where to start. Maybe he could check with Dodecus and Rebecca, see if the lunar portal had been returned to them? Either way, it was probably best to wait for some time until he was recovered more (as he didn't seem to be able to move much at the moment) and until Wilcox was off the trail of blood that Albus had likely left that led to this house. He hoped Nelson and Ingot had covered the trail, or moved their location.

"I think _you_ should be doing some explanations first," said Ingot. "How did you find this place?"

"Dumbledore's Hocus-Focuser led me here."

Nelson looked over at Ingot. "I told you I recognized the bird," she said. "It's one of Dumbledore's inventions. I saw it in Minerva's office several times when I was at Hogwarts. I had no idea what it did, though." She turned back to Albus. "What _does_ it do?"

"It locates the nearest source of magic," said Albus. "But not just any kind of magic. The special kind of magic, that… you know… I'm sorry, but I am kind of freaking out right now."

"Don't stop talking yet," insisted Ingot. "I don't care how powerful a Locupet is on that device. There is no way it could have found us. This dwelling you're in now is protected by an Illusiveil which I guarantee is leagues beyond the abilities of any individual. The only way you could have found us is…"

Ingot's eyes widened. "Albus. What's happening in the world right now?"

"In the world?" asked Albus, surprised at the vague probe. They didn't know _anything_ that was going on in the world right now? "What—besides the guy worse than you who's trying to take it over?"

"He's back," said Ingot, giving a significant glance to Nelson. "I never thought it would happen—or at least not in my lifetime. I guess I opened the wrong can of worms. We have to act fast, before everything is burned to the ground!"

"Wait," said Albus. "What do you mean, he's _back?_ Are we talking about the same person?"

"Who are you talking about?" asked Nelson.

"Helio Wilcox," said Albus.

Ingot blinked. "I… er… I knew his wife."

"I knew _him,_" said Nelson. "Helio Wilcox? There's no possible way. You must have that wrong. His wife, certainly, but not him…"

"He's tried to kill me," said Albus. "A lot of times. I found out everything he's schemed throughout the years."

"Was it his men who injured you?"

"No," said Albus, "but it easily could have been. I was looking for the Hourglass Empire to escape from him. I'm not lying and I'm not wrong. It's really happening."

"Who chased you, then?"

A thought occurred to Albus, and he decided to change the subject to something he wanted to clarify. "Earlier… when you said 'he's back' and 'before everything is burned to the ground.' Were you talking about Pyron?"

Ingot conjured a chair and sat next to Albus's bed. "I was. How do you know of Pyron? The legends?"

"I killed him," said Albus.

It was technically true, in the most technical of technicalities. He hadn't been the one to push Pyron through the Veil, but he had led Pyron there with the intent to improvise and the result was successful.

Ingot shook his head. "There is no way you could have overpowered him. Believe me, child, I know this for a fact."

"Take my memory," offered Albus. "See for yourself. Do you have a Pensieve?"

"No," said Ingot. "Tell us, then."

Albus dove into the explanation, and on the way, he ended up describing basically the last seven years of his life. How he had known Wilcox was searching for the "Natural S" and had realized that was indicating the Natural Sprites. How the Dismiusa incident had proceeded, starting all the way back with the return of the mulunctapoli in his first year, and how he had later realized that he'd defeated Terra and gained Terra's power. How he'd pieced together the stories of the Loch Stock Stalker being Mara, and the legends of the deity of wind atop Mount Solaeris. How Herpo the Foul had been reborn, which was both how Albus became familiar with Mount Solaeris and how he orchestrated the downfall of Herpo to get to Aether. How Herpo's servant had turned out to be Draxler Cordot—at this, Ingot's eyes widened and he leaned forward—and how Pyron had killed him. And then, how Albus had led him to the Ministry of Magic and Pyron had seen Cordot through the Veil, thinking it was the entrance to the Pandoran Catalyst, and had jumped through…

As he recounted the story, he started remembering one of the details himself. _Ingot,_ Pyron had said. _His family would have known where the Catalyst was._

Albus looked around. The Hocus-Focuser had led him here… So there was something related to the Devoctrices here. The house was hidden by the Illusiveil Devoctrix, yes, but was there something else here?

And suddenly he knew where Gallen Ingot's power had come from.

"Why are you here?" he asked, turning the discussion over to them now that he had finished his explanation of what had happened. "Here in Egypt, I mean? Are you… Are you guarding the Pandoran Catalyst?"

Ingot breathed in deeply, and breathed out even more deeply. He leaned back in his chair again. "How much do you know? How much does anyone else know? About the Catalyst, I mean. This information cannot be spread… especially because your greatest enemy is looking for it."

"He is?" asked Albus, puzzled. "I only just guessed its existence now, by putting together the facts that you were still alive, that you were in Egypt, that you'd probably gotten your powers from the Pandoran Catalyst, and that the Catalyst was said to be buried in Egypt… If I hadn't stumbled in here with the Hocus-Focuser, I never would have guessed anything, not the Catalyst's location and especially not that _you two_ were guarding it. So how do you know Wilcox is looking for it? I don't think I said that, and if it's true, I didn't know about it…"

"You said he was looking for the power of the Natural Sprites," said Ingot. "I believe you made the wrong assumption from Natural 'S.'"

Albus frowned. "But what else could it be? I spent months trying to find out."

"If he was looking for the Natural Sprites," said Ingot, "do you really think a man that powerful would not have found them? You said yourself that he is extraordinarily well-versed in magical myth. He found Dismiusa, but he couldn't find the Sprites? He never realized that she had control of Terra? He ignored all of the evidence that the Loch Stock Stalker was Mara—and never even investigated the possibility, with all of his drive and resources? He never realized what had happened when your wand connected with Herpo the Foul's wand? No, I think that if he was indeed looking for the Natural Sprites, he would have found them long before you."

Albus considered this. Wilcox was incredibly clever. Was it possible that he had, in months and possibly years of research, missed everything that Albus had figured out just in a few minutes of contemplation once Albus realized the Sprites were real?

"No," said Ingot, "I think that it's much more likely that he never suspected the Sprites were one of those legends that was actually real, or else he didn't think of them as worth his time for whatever reason—maybe he didn't believe controlling their power was possible. Or maybe he knew that if Pyron was recreated, he would try to destroy the world, not to serve the one who brought him back."

"So what do you think he meant when he said Natural 'S?'" asked Albus, the logical follow-up question.

"I am going to have to guess that when he said he was looking for the power of the 'Natural S', he was looking for the Pandoran Catalyst," said Gallen Ingot. "Because he wanted the power that I controlled. The power of the Natural Storm Devoctrix."

"_Natural_ Storm?" asked Albus. He knew a _Superstorm_ Devoctrix… then again, there were many Devoctrices that had different names depending on what source you learned them from. Ingot had already referred to the Celetect Devoctrix as the "Locupet."

"The Devoctrix that I used to wreak havoc on the world was the Natural Storm Devoctrix," said Ingot. "Which was also the Devoctrix accessed by Azra Lamenta, the man known as Pyron, and Litinia Darstary, the woman known as Dismiusa."

This confirmed to Albus that they were talking about the same thing.

"In which case he may be searching for the Pandoran Catalyst," said Ingot. "And now, he may be able to find it."

"Find it _now?_ What's changed?"

"Pyron has changed," said Ingot. "Draxler Cordot concealed the Pandoran Catalyst with its own Devoctrical power—since it was the most powerful Devoctrix in the world, it couldn't be located. Neither could this house, by anyone except my family, who was tasked with keeping guard of the Catalyst."

"But I found it."

"Yes, because Cordot placed a safeguard on the house and Catalyst," explained Ingot. "He knew that if my family died off, no one would ever find the Catalyst again. But if Pyron returned—which would probably happen eventually—the Catalyst was likely needed to defeat him, since the Catalyst gave Pyron his power. Cordot enchanted the house and the Pandoran Catalyst so that if Pyron ever returned to power… this house and the Catalyst would return to the world, and people would be able to find it again."

"On that note," said Nelson, "I'm going to go put another seal on it, since the one Cordot placed was broken. If what Albus says is true, there's a very dangerous man out looking for it, and we need to make sure he doesn't find it. Or find _us,_ considering we have in our house the person he's most desperate to find. In the meantime… Albus looks a bit disoriented from all of this. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

"I will," said Ingot.

Adelina placed her hand on the doorknob. Immediately, every item in the house, apart from the people and the food and drinks and several snakes, turned completely transparent. Ingot's stew bubbled on the stove in midair. Around them, there was nothing but sand. A small pulse of energy flew from the house, kicking up some grains of sand in a ripple that extended throughout the area.

"We are required to check to see if the premises are clear before we exit," said Ingot as Adelina started out the door and the full house flickered back into view. "We can force the door open in emergencies—for example, when you were out there, chased by that creature, and we needed not only to save you but also to find out how you had found us, so we could make sure that nobody else would. Oh—Addie! Hold up. Take Jedeza, would you? I'm worried, with this maniac out there looking specifically for our secret."

Adelina nodded. The ripple of energy returned, closing back in on its origin point like returning radar, and when it struck the house, the door opened. Adelina gave a soft hiss, and from another room, one of the larger snakes hissed back and slithered over to her, curling up her leg. It was nearly ten feet long and thicker than Albus's arm, and wearing a blindfold. Why the hell would they have a blindfold on a…

Albus gasped as the door closed behind Adelina and he realized what the snake was. "You—you have a _basilisk?_" he sputtered.

"Keeps the spiders out," grunted Ingot.

Albus's head sank back onto his pillow, completely overwhelmed.

"Mr.—Mr. Ingot?" he asked with an extraordinary level of awkwardness.

"Call me Gallen," he said unenthusiastically. "Nobody's called me Ingot in ages, or 'Mister' for that matter. It's just been me and Addie here for seventeen years now."

"I…"

Albus trailed off. Regardless of what Gallen Ingot preferred, it was still incredibly strange to be calling one of the most evil men in all of history by his first name. Then again, it seemed weird no matter how he was addressing the man.

"You had the Chaos Contagion, even though you were using the Catalyst. Did you cure the Contagion completely?"

"Yes," said Ingot. "Goodness… I didn't expect the information to explode out into the world quite this quickly. This doesn't bode well for humanity's future. Three extremely powerful individuals seeking world conquest, all within a quarter century of each other. How many more can the world fight off before one of them succeeds? But yes, to answer your question, I did cure my Contagion."

"How?" asked Albus.

Ingot pointed to his eye. "Are you looking to get rid of your own, then?"

"I already did," said Albus. "Or… I _think_ I did. But we're not sure yet, whether or not it really worked completely. That's kind of why I want to know. And I want to know how, because if you cured yourself in the same way as me… then considering you've stayed sane for seventeen years, it would imply that I'm probably safe, too."

"I'll explain," said Ingot. "But as Addie suggested, I will start from the beginning. I promise, I will answer your question along the way."

"Okay," said Albus.

Ingot began.

"The man known as Azra Lamenta discovered the Pandoran Catalyst in the Egyptian desert. It was named long after his time—it was the first Catalyst ever discovered, so Draxler Cordot just called it 'the Catalyst.' But, back to Lamenta.

"Azra Lamenta didn't know who created the Catalyst, or even if it _had_ been created… maybe it was just always there. He studied the Catalyst and realized it could be used to summon incredible power. He used it to manifest the power of the Natural Storm Devoctrix. Being the first to attempt it, he couldn't exactly control the effects. He also didn't access the Catalyst as efficiently as he could have, and he went insane anyway. To be fair, the same thing happened to me, as I will explain later. And like I would do later, he proceeded to spread destruction around the world as the insane man tested out his newfound power. Unlike me, his focus shifted from ruling the world to destroying it.

"Enter Draxler Cordot," said Ingot. "Lamenta's mentee. Not many people were aware of their connection. When he saw the destruction, at the same time his mentor disappeared, he knew precisely what had happened. Knowing the only power great enough to destroy his old teacher was the same power that his teacher had achieved, he retraced Lamenta's steps and found the Pandoran Catalyst himself. He studied the powers within until he was able to figure out a Devoctrical variant strong enough to destroy Lamenta. He couldn't kill him, but he used the Splismetic Devoctrix to split Lamenta into three parts with less power than his power combined. Terra, Mara, and Aether."

Albus nodded. "That must be the twenty-third Devoctrix. The same one Wilcox used to clone himself… but a different variant, where Pyron was split apart instead of just replicated."

"You know _all twenty-three?_" laughed Ingot, finally cracking a smile. "Hell, even I only knew… nine, or something. Do many people know all of them now?"

"Wilcox killed all of the people who knew," said Albus. "Except me and my Devoctrix mentor. But my mentor is dead now. My friends know about the Devoctrices, and I don't know if Wilcox has told others exactly about what he's doing. That covers everyone who does or might know about the Devoctrices."

"I will continue," said Ingot. "Draxler Cordot split his former mentor into three, each part retaining only vague intelligence and much less power, but Cordot knew that Pyron wasn't gone from the world forever. He wished to destroy the Catalyst and all knowledge of these arts, but knew that as long as Pyron was around, the Catalyst would be needed to banish him again. Though… apparently not, if you managed to slip him through the Veil. But I digress again. Cordot knew that, like the way he traced Lamenta's path to the Pandoran Catalyst, others would trace him there as well. So he used the Catalyst to seal itself away, accessible only by one woman and her descendants. This woman was Shiloh Ingot, his own mentee. Cordot had her take her children to hide away in this house, and her family was tasked with guarding the Catalyst for all generations thereafter.

"Cordot, meanwhile, went off to create his own hideaway, where no one would follow him—because it was said there was no way out. The Hourglass Empire, as I'm sure you are aware considering you know far more than you should by any measure."

"You're not the first to say that," said Albus, "but yes, I've actually been to the Hourglass Empire."

"Of course you have," chuckled Ingot. "Anyway, Cordot spent a long time finding any knowledge that could lead anyone to rediscovery of the Devoctrices, learning it and gathering it into a library in this house, while destroying any other copies. He left guarding the Catalyst to his mentee; he felt he had more important work to do. Eventually, his grandsons reported he'd died, and the Cordot family went down to the Hourglass Empire to avoid scrutiny and assault now that the family's extraordinarily powerful protector was gone. The Ingot family remained to secretly look after the Catalyst.

"Millennia progress. Herpo the Foul captures Aether and studies what makes Aether tick; he discovers the source of magic that leads to the creation of his own Devoctrices, such as portals, Horcruxes, and biological experimentation that led to the basilisk—coincidentally, the basilisk's origin as a product of a Devoctrix is the reason basilisk venom can destroy another Devoctrix, the Horcrux. He also imbued his essence into Fiendfyre, so that he could control it easier. And Fiendfyre can thus destroy Horcruxes too… although now that Herpo is gone, I don't know if that effect would hold. Other people accidentally stumbled upon the occasional Devoctrix—Godric Gryffindor, with the sword and the hat… the Peverells, of course… the Flamels… whatever complete moron created the Time-Turners… Dumbledore as well.

"Now, let us look at the case of Dismiusa. My family, for thousands of years already, had been staying mostly within this one house for life… education, exercise, and entertainment, and everything, all within this single abode. We head out to get food and other necessities, but as for the world beyond just this desert, each descendant is only permitted out there once in their lives, to find a suitable spouse to raise a single child who will carry the Ingot name, regardless of the genders of the parents. We give a future-seeing ring, imbued with the same Devoctrix inside the blood of Seers, to test if the spouse we have chosen is the right one for us—healthy marriage, healthy descendants. So, cue the incompetent Toulouse Ingot. He found a bride up top, and put the ring on her. The ring determined that she should be rejected, and another bride found. But Toulouse was insistent that the young Litinia Baccit should be the one for him. So he married her anyway. Told her all the family secrets, gave her access to the Catalyst. Of course, it backfired. She used it to further her academic pursuits, and wouldn't stay in the house because she insisted that she wouldn't be kept locked away. Her selfish actions meant Toulouse had to break off their marriage and find a new woman who would follow the rules. He couldn't, however, take away her access to the Catalyst, even after she married another man—Sidland Darstary, if you're familiar with Dismiusa's history. To her credit, she did keep the Catalyst a secret even from her husband, but only so she could keep it all to herself. She used it more and more, drawn to the power but lost to the madness, and eventually, as we know, she became Dismiusa, and was only barely stopped by Darstary, just before she was too powerful to ever be stopped. This story was told to every generation of Ingot children since then, to ensure no one would never make that mistake again.

"Now, we jump significantly forward in time again and arrive at the childhood of my young father, Gadolen Ingot. He insisted that there was no reason for us to always be cooped up in there—who on the surface, after thousands of years, would recognize our name and target us? No one knew we were guarding the Catalyst even when we started, except maybe Pyron, but he was gone. He hadn't been seen in thousands of years. Why were we eternally hiding? Gadolen protested to his father, my grandfather; he wanted to see the world that my grandfather knew before my grandmother dragged him in to live here for the rest of his life. The world that my grandfather always described to him. Eventually my grandfather caved to Gadolen. Said that my father would at least get a Hogwarts education like he had. And so Gadolen went off to join the real world.

"Gadolen was utterly shocked to learn that there were people without magic. He grew to resent them as an inferior species, especially as he struck up a friendship at Hogwarts with one Tom Marvolo Riddle. Gadolen became a Death Eater. When he had a child with a fellow Voldemort sympathizer—me—they declined to return to the Ingot house to raise him. My grandfather was devastated—thought that he'd been the one to finally fail Cordot after this family had been upholding the traditions since even before the pyramids. My grandfather tried to find another woman, but the ring rejected them all, despite his former wife having passed away. It seemed, for some reason, that this is how Cordot wanted fate to proceed. My grandfather accepted this, and lived in solitude in the Ingot house, praying every day that his son would come home, or at least his grandson—me—when I was old enough. If I ever found out where my dad had come from, anyway.

"But my father didn't even tell me about my origin until he was about to die. Imagine my surprise when I found the Pandoran Catalyst, which could have been used to win the war for Voldemort, except my father had never been taught how to use it—our grandfather refused to pass on the knowledge because of my father's abandonment of the family duties. So I went back to my grandfather with puppy-dog eyes and told him I regretted my father's decisions—that I wanted to stay and learn the traditions of our family. He was thrilled, and over a few years, he taught me all I needed to know… after my training was done, I killed him and took over the Catalyst. I killed a lot of people after that. I won't deny it. I tried for too much power right away, and I went completely mad.

"But then, Adelina came along, and I regarded her initially as a fun toy. I found her attractive, and I played with her. But when she seriously dedicated her entire life to the attempt to defeat me in combat, I was truly worried; when the clash finally happened, she was such a dueling prodigy that she was making me sweat even through the power of the Catalyst. She almost got the better of me… but finally, I hit her with a Killing Curse."

He straightened his back and sighed, a small smile spreading; what a weird situation to be recalled as a fond, gentle memory. "But somehow, she was alive—merely Petrified. I checked; she was definitely alive. I was baffled. I thought, there must be some higher power at work here. So I took the ring that my father had given my mother, and I slipped it on her finger… and what do you know. A match. It looked like she was the one.

"Overcome with a sense that there was finally something more important than myself and my own games, I became incredibly remorseful of what I'd done. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced, but through that pain, I shed the evil in my body next to Adelina's body in that field. A husk of my own body was left, an evil husk that carried with it all of my evil thoughts and deeds that were discarded with it. I believe I may have unconsciously tapped into the power of a Devoctrix that is fed from the power of love."

Albus nodded. "Go on."

"I was a changed man, but I knew the world would never see me that way," said Ingot. "I let go of the Catalyst's power so that I would cease to appear on the magical radar, fueling the belief that I had been killed by Nelson… that we had mutually ended each other in that duel, since her body wasn't found, and I appeared to have been disintegrated under a hollow shell of my skin—but what they discovered was merely a husk of my former evil self that I'd shed when I departed with my evil ways. So I came back to this ancient house where no one would find me. I brought Adelina with me for the time being, and I explained everything to her when I revived her. She looked into my mind, my soul, and saw I was not lying. I gave her the choice to stay or go."

"And she chose to _stay?_" asked Albus, flabbergasted.

"Of course not," scoffed Ingot. "After all, how many people had I killed? No, Adelina refused my offer, as I fully expected, and she left. She went off on her own, but opted not to reveal her survival to the world. She had enough of the spotlight. So she stayed in the shadows. In the meantime, I researched how to cure the Contagion in me, so that I wouldn't have to worry about the Contagion rendering me unable to uphold my family's responsibilities. And I searched for other partners, but none were matches. But I did succeed in my research on curing the Contagion, based on old notes from Cordot." He flicked his wand, and the wall behind Albus turned invisible; Albus turned around to see the most densely packed library he'd ever seen in his life. "Since all anyone does in this house is read, anyway… I went through the books with the intention of curing my Contagion. I found the answer relatively soon, before I was totally lost to the insanity, thank goodness. None of my ancestors needed the cure, since they never used the Catalyst for big enough endeavors to acquire the Contagion, but Cordot's information was in there for me when I looked for it. I healed myself by releasing my soul, and having a blind, deaf, and mute witch touch it."

Albus nodded. "That's how it happened for me. How did you release your soul?"

"A Devoctrix that can be cast directly upon the soul itself," said Ingot. "The same one that can be used to split one's soul to create a Horcrux, can be used to simply have the soul vacate the body for a moment."

"It didn't require murdering anyone, did it?"

"No," said Ingot with a smile. "It just brought my soul outside my body."

"Who did you convince to touch your soul—no offense, but you of all people? And how did you get _three_ people on board with that?"

"I found an old woman with Harbingitis. She had already predicted she would be dying within the week. She agreed to be subjected to humane spells which took her sight, hearing, and speech, and then she touched my soul. So when I say 'a blind, deaf, and mute witch'—I mean all three were the same person. Not a blind witch, a deaf witch, and a mute witch, but a witch who was blind, deaf, and mute. Though I suppose the other way would likely work as well. Is that how you accomplished it?"

"Yes, but I still have a question. She agreed to do that for you, knowing you were Gallen Ingot…? Or did you not tell her?"

"She was a Purist," said Ingot, shrugging. "Pure-blood fanatic. I told her I would return to lead Voldemort's army once more."

"Well," said Albus, finally smiling back, "if you had to do it to someone, that was probably a good person to take advantage of."

Ingot cleared his throat. "Adelina, meanwhile, had changed her name to Mandy Fogg, then dyed her hair, tanned her skin, and wore colored contact lenses, so that no one would know who she really was. She had completely reinvented herself—after about seven years in her new life, she even had a fiancé. She was working at a research institute in Belize. At Hogwarts, she had heavily studied the Patronus, and joined a team to continue researching in that field. But in the process, she accidentally discovered a Devoctrix. She didn't make the connection to the super-spells I had been talking about when I explained my duties to her, or to the Chaos Contagion which casting these spells had brought about in me. She simply believed she had cast a stronger Patronus, and didn't realize the effects it would have on her mind. So after studying it and believing she had a major breakthrough, she brought the results to her research team and cast it in front of everyone in the institute in a demonstration.

"At the beginning of that day, she'd cast the Spirit Guard Devoctrix once at home for practice. Wearing colored contact lenses as part of her disguise, she didn't notice the change in her eye, having cast too many and contracting the Contagion. She then went to the conference where she was presenting her results, and cast it again… and promptly lost her mind, having cast one more too many. She murdered everyone in the election board, in horrific, torturous ways. She then killed her fiancé and hatched a basilisk egg inside his chest. She fed her fiancé's fingers and toes to it one at a time once it hatched.

"Finally, she showed up here again, intending to kill me and access the Catalyst for even more power. She was out of her mind, though, and I overpowered her easily. When I realized what had happened to her, I cured her using the same strategy I'd used for myself. Upon gaining her mind back, she remembered everything she'd done, and the horror almost killed her. I stopped her from taking her own life, and shared some of the strategies I'd used to survive confronting my own despicable past, and taught her how to atone without loathing herself, since it wasn't her fault: it was the Contagion.

"Over time, we grew closer, now that she had undergone the same insanity that caused me to commit such terrible acts, and that she now understood that it was more attributable to the Contagion than to my personal malice. We live together now, and keep each other sane. She hasn't made any commitment specifically to me, and I also haven't thrown any commitment her way, neither with ultimatum nor with subtle request. We'll go where the current takes us and she'll make a decision if she at any time wants to. At this point, she is staying here with me and we keep each other company while we both guard the Catalyst. I think she's more here for Cordot's library than for me, and so that she doesn't always have to cook her own meals… but I'm not complaining, because I don't have to cook all my own meals, either."

Albus shook his head, still handling the information and the incredulity. "That's… sweet, I guess," he said. "One thing, though. She birthed that basilisk in her fiancé's chest, and fed it his extremities… but she still _kept_ the basilisk?"

"Well, she didn't exactly want to release it into the wild, but she couldn't take another innocent living thing's life," explained Ingot. "It wasn't an evil creature—it simply came into the world in bad circumstances. She named it Jedeza, and in fact kept it as a reminder to make the best out of bad situations; Jedeza was born and fed off her dead fiancé, but she still has a strong emotional connection with the snake, being a Parselmouth, and it has become her closest life companion. Her fiancé isn't coming back, but she has Jedeza as a different form of love in his stead, as long as she separates the animal's potential from its unfortunate but unwitting origin, and ties her emotions to the good it can do over the bad from which it began. A lot of awful things happened outside of her control, but she can make the best out of what's in her control now. And that's what we've both been doing here since both of us were cured of the insanity." Ingot rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm, and tapped a finger on his cheek. "How are you processing all of this?"

"All right, I suppose," said Albus, shaking his head. "I just can't believe that all those crazy conspiracy theorists were right when they insisted you were still alive." He took another deep breath, trying to center his focus. "Some people even thought that I was a reincarnation of Adelina Nelson, having been born on the very day she died… so much for that theory, considering she's still alive."

"Well, when so many things _aren't_ coincidences in one's life," said Ingot, "I suppose a few have to be."

The door opened again, and Adelina Nelson entered in.

"Okay," said Nelson. "That should do it; we should be fully concealed again, within the hour. Hopefully Helio didn't have a strong enough Locupet Devoctrix to find us before we refueled the Catalyst's Illusiveil." She turned to Albus. "I wanted to ask; I haven't gone keeping tabs on people back home. How is my nephew? Sylvester?"

Albus's face clouded over. Nelson noticed.

"But he's only your age," she said. "Was it… was it Helio Wilcox's doing?"

"It was," said Albus. "There were some other people involved, and Wilcox didn't cast the actual spell that did it… But it all boils back down to Wilcox at the heart of everything. He's probably the one who gave the order."

He saw Nelson's fury threatening to surge forth as she curled her fists, and a great swelling of hope inside him pushed right past his lips and formulated directly into words.

"Will you help me and my friends fight Wilcox?" he blurted.

Nelson looked over at Ingot, and he looked back at her. They seemed to be conversing just with their eyes.

"I don't know if we can go out into the world again," said Ingot, turning back to face Albus. "I know that, for me specifically, I am obliged to stay here and continue my family's traditions. We cannot let the secret die with me—there would be no one to protect the Catalyst."

"And I think I am now part of that promise, to protect the Catalyst," said Nelson softly. "I haven't fought in nearly two decades, unless you count that one Reflesh outside. Same with Gallen. I'm not sure how much use either of us would be in a fight anymore."

Albus's heart fell as quickly as it has risen.

"But," said Nelson, looking to Ingot, "perhaps we could…"

Ingot's face settled into an intrigued look.

Albus's heart dared to peek around the corner again.

"You were approved by the ring," said Ingot. "You have been made an equally worthy keeper of the Catalyst. You have the responsibility to choose for yourself how you wish to use it. As long as you think you are making the right decision."

Nelson nodded, and turned to Albus. "I will teach you how to use the Catalyst. How to cast Devoctrices at a level far beyond your foes. And how to access the power that created the most dangerous adversaries the world has ever faced… all of it finally channeled into someone who will use the power for good."

Albus's heart jumped for joy, and he looked over to Ingot.

Ingot nodded. "Though you are cured of the Contagion," he cautioned, "it may return if you venture too far again. Be wary of that."

"I will be," said Albus. As many times as the Contagion had actually ended up saving his skin, it was too unpredictable and too much of a liability—one misstep and he could have ended up the way Desulgon had.

"Then we will wait until you are fully healed," said Nelson, "and I will take you to the Catalyst to teach you."


	24. The Superstorm

_**If you read last chapter within an hour or so of when I posted it, there was an extra portion that I meant to move to this chapter but forgot to change when I updated the story. The first section of this chapter here used to be the last section of the previous chapter, but I moved it because I felt it worked better here. So, just skip this first part if you've read it already, and apologies for any confusion.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE SUPERSTORM

O

"Just like we practiced," said Aidan. "Just like Albus taught us."

"_Entrain,_" whispered Alec.

Carefully, Alec envisioned a silent Confundus Charm, but imagined it as though he were casting it from directly behind Djolya, the captain of the Loch Stock Liner.

He waited as long as possible; from their vantage point atop a cliff overhanging the sea, the small line of people was moving quickly onto the Liner. This Quidditch match hadn't been as fully attended, and they were going to stock the Liner soon and disappear underwater. It wouldn't be the end of the world if they missed their chance now, as long as they didn't give away their plans for the Liner, but they'd all rather get this done sooner than later.

Alec closed his eyes and imagined as hard as he could. He felt the power of the spell swirling inside him, gathering his energy like a snowball.

"We can't wait much longer," whispered Aidan. "Do you feel like you're charged up enough for your spell to have significant effect?"

"Yes," said Alec.

"Go. No one's looking in his direction right now!"

"_End!_"

The Confundus Charm generated itself out of thin air behind Djolya and struck him directly in the back of the head. Aidan watched through a pair of magically enhanced binoculars to make sure everything was progressing smoothly.

Djolya seemed to sense that something was behind him right before it happened, but he hadn't been fast enough to react and get out of the way. He clutched the side of his head, rubbing it and looking around with a dazed look in his slightly unfocused eyes.

"Go," said Aidan.

Teddy nodded, and Disapparated swiftly. He appeared on the shore beside the Liner, and pointed his wand up. "Stop right there!" he shouted.

The crew all looked down and jolted, because Teddy had changed himself to look exactly like Djolya, their captain. They looked back and forth between the two.

Djolya shook his head to clear it, still a bit thrown off from the spell. His eyes bulged when he realized that this strange vision was not just a product of his confused head. "Imposter!" he shouted. "You know I am your captain. Take him down!"

"What is your middle name?" demanded Teddy. "What is your birthday?"

Djolya stood with his mouth ajar, trying to access the knowledge, not realizing it had just been Confunded out of him.

"No!" he shouted, looking around at the crew who now looked very suspicious. "Just now—I felt something on the back of my head! They must have hit me with a spell to make me forget! I am your Captain—who else would know that a week ago we collected fourteen cubic blocs of Blicks, and two weeks ago it was only half that—"

"He's been pretending to be me for weeks!" accused Teddy, still pointing his wand right at Djolya.

Djolya pointed an accusatory finger back at Teddy. "You—what are your children's names? What is your mother's maiden name?!"

"Jurgen and Kypa," replied Teddy, having done his research, "and my mother's maiden name is—"

"Ericov!" shouted Djolya desperately at the same time that Teddy did. "You must have researched that!"

"No, I lived it," said Teddy, glaring, "and the only reason you know their names is because you kidnapped them."

He gave a small wave, and Aethan, Cynthia, and Victoire stepped out from behind trees, Polyjuiced as Djolya's family.

"Stop him!" cried Aethan in a young child's voice—he was excited to have been Polyjuiced into someone who could speak.

Djolya was horror-struck. With nothing else to do, and with the crew looking like it was about to crash down on him like a wave from all sides, he whimpered and Disapparated.

Teddy raced onto the ship, and Victoire brought the "kids". The crew checked Teddy for Polyjuice, but neglected to do so for the rest of the family. Teddy and Victoire kissed when they reached the deck to further sell their story, and the crew walked up to Teddy nervously.

"We're so sorry," said Dembo. "We… had no idea. Who did this?"

"I assume that was Teddy Lupin, the Metamorphmagus," said Teddy. "The Potters had us."

"Did you ever find out why?"

"Albus Potter is finally out in the open," said Teddy. "They know our ship has the capability to find him, so they had infiltrated any operation with the ability to locate him. We have to find him now."

"How did you escape?"

"The Potters were set upon by Ministry forces and they had to evacuate, leaving us behind," said Teddy, "and I found you again by coming to a Quidditch game where I assumed some people would take the Loch Stock Liner afterward. But there will be time to go over the details later. Before the Potters inform Albus and he disappears off our radar—we have to find him! _Now!_"

"We can't locate just one individual!" protested a young ginger crewman. "We don't have that capability!"

"Albus Potter," said Teddy, using the most plausible story he could think of, "has accessed similar power to Gallen Ingot. We can locate him if we turn on those scanners again."

"We were ordered by the Ministry to turn those off," said a woman in a Mexican accent. "Do we have the authority to turn them back on?"

"I have been approval from the Minister herself," said Teddy. "Full authority to carry out this mission. With all due haste and full discretion." He flicked his wand, and a ribbon burst from his wand and twisted into the seal of the Ministry of Magic—a spell that could only be cast from someone on Ministry business, and Teddy was an Auror. "We'll be letting all passengers off right now and giving them five times what they paid as a refund and by way of apology, and the Ministry will be compensating us for any losses. A Ministry official is also waiting to book them at the MagiCairns Hotel in the next city over and pay for their stay if they need temporary accommodations. Right now, no questions—just actions. Go!"

Dembo disappeared into the cabins to alert people; other crew members got to work activating additional instruments on the ship. A steady stream of disgruntled passengers began flowing out of the ship, their aggravation quickly disappearing upon seeing the Galleons heaped on each passenger as they left.

In the chaos, Alec and Aidan Apparated behind a hill, and ran against the grain through the small crowd. In their Muggle disguises, they climbed back aboard the ship.

"Ship is compromised," said Teddy. "No passengers."

"We know," said Aidan, "we were on it. We forgot the signed Snitch we bought. It'll take ten seconds and you still look like you're setting things up. Can we please run in and get it?"

"As fast as possible," said Teddy. "Go!"

Aidan and Alec disappeared into the cabins. "We forgot something!" yelled Alec as Dembo complained that the ship was closed. Once the last person was out of the ship, the two ran back out of the ship; Alec tripped and fell, tumbling onto the floor and moaning in feigned pain. As Dembo looked over at the distraction, Aidan sent an Imperius Curse into Dembo's back.

They sent Dembo back out on the deck, where he swiftly Stunned three of the other crewmen before he was immobilized himself; Alec and Aidan ran out next and together with Teddy, Victoire, Cynthia, and Aethan, they easily overpowered and Stunned all the rest. Teddy and Aidan went around to each crew member, Teddy casting the Imperius Curse on each before Aidan revived them, then moving to the next crew member like an assembly line.

"A sight smoother than the last time," muttered Alec, headed towards the navigation instruments with some Imperiused crew. "Time to start scanning."

It didn't seem like the most concrete of plans, but maybe Aidan was right; maybe they would be able to locate Albus using a mechanism that tracked Devoctrices. He was carrying the Resurrection Stone, Hocus-Focuser, and Swait's knife… And he did seem to be an unnaturally powerful wizard on top of all that.

One of the instruments shuddered and began flashing; Alec flicked it off. "Don't care who's signaling the Liner anymore… it's out of order for a while." He toyed with some other instruments. _Okay, looks good,_ he thought into their Connectivity Charms which essentially made a mental group chat._ Very good. I'm getting a reading from Dodecus and Rebecca with the lunar portal. We're fully operational._

_Is there a chance Wilcox might find them?_ asked Cynthia nervously. _Dodecus and Rebecca, I mean? If we can track them, he certainly can._

_They're under Desulgon's Fidelius,_ thought Teddy. _They're safe. They can only be found if they open their own door. They can detect nearby magical concealment._

_We need to go down,_ thought Alec. _Djolya is probably in the middle of an explanation to the nearest Australian police force and the first place they'll look is where he parked the Liner. Let's go!_

_On it,_ thought Teddy, and the crewmen scrambled to get the Liner in order. Not long after, they were descending, and the group headed into the cabins before they were washed away, except for Alec who stayed on the instruments, having interned on the Liner and knowing how everything worked. The Liner sank, and quickly rumbled its way into Digher Straits.

_Drive past Azkaban,_ thought Aidan to Alec outside. _As close as possible, without getting so close that they're alerted to our presence._

_All right,_ thought Alec back. _Teddy, you're the one who's got most of the Imperiused crew—get them to head towards Azkaban. Fastest route is through the Digher Straits channel under the Red Sea, Mediterranean to Black and Danube to Rhine and up the North Sea. We'll have some bumpiness because we'll have to go straight through some land, but that always happens on a direct route without the carefully plotted schedules that Luck or Sanchez usually keep for us._

_Gotcha. See anything else on the instruments?_

_No. But Albus probably wouldn't be a huge dot, if he's even sensed on our radar at all. And he might not be. Casting the few Devoctrices that he has may not have made him as prominent a landmark as Ingot was. I don't know how close we'd have to be to sense him, so we may have to make several trips around the world and cover as much of it as possible._

_Well, it's necessary,_ thought Aidan._ Not only is it Albus, and just the fact that it's him would be enough, but he also probably knows what and where Wilcox's Horcruxes are._

_I know. We're looking._

The group inside the cabin waited anxiously. They didn't want to keep asking Alec "are we there yet" questions, so they just waited for the Liner to slow down.

_HOLY SHIT!_

The Liner came to a sudden halt.

_What?!_ responded Teddy to Alec's internal cry of surprise. _Are we at Azkaban? Did you find something?!_

_No. We're by Egypt. There's… There's something here. It's massive. Absolutely massive. The most powerfully magical thing the Liner has ever sensed. It's off our charts and I don't even know how far off the charts it might be._

_Is it Wilcox?_

_It's not a person. It's massive._

_That's the Hourglass Empire, Alec._

_No. It's not. I see the Empire, because that blip on our radar is constantly moving. This one is stationary and much bigger than the pillar—bigger as in it takes up more area. This thing is Quidditch-pitch-sized. And I have no idea what it could be._

_Wait,_ thought Aidan. _Wait. Is… Could… It might be the Pandoran Catalyst._

_Another myth come true? I wouldn't be surprised. And Desulgon referenced it._

_If it was real, and we found it…_

_That would level the playing field like nothing else,_ agreed Teddy. _But if it was always there, wouldn't Wilcox have found it already?_

_Guys,_ came Alec's deadpan thought.

_What?_

_There's two other dots inside the giant splotch on the radar. One of them has the letters G.I. next to it._

_G.I. as in… Gallen Ingot?_ thought Aidan.

_Maybe Ingot used the Pandoran Catalyst,_ thought Teddy. _Maybe the people trying to track Ingot didn't know they were assigning the label of G.I. to track the power of the Catalyst, rather than Ingot himself. Maybe what the Liner is sensing is the person with the Pandoran Catalyst's power._

_Who would that be?_

_Wilcox, maybe,_ thought Aidan with a sinking heart. _Maybe he DID find it already. Maybe that's how he became so powerful. Are the two dots about the same size?_

_The unmarked one is a little bigger, but yes._

_It could be Wilcox and his clone. Inside the Pandoran Catalyst._

_Could we destroy it?_

_Wait. There's another dot close to the first two. It's just a lot smaller. But wait, it seems like it could be big enough to be someone who has used a Dev… Wait._

_We're waiting,_ thought Aidan, irritated. _What?_

_It's gone. It just vanished. All of it. Off the map. Completely._

_The entire Quidditch-pitch-sized anomaly?_

_Yes. And the three dots inside it. They're all gone._

_That's… strange,_ thought Victoire as they started moving again. _Very strange. Did they sense us tracking them and respond?_

_That fast? _thought Aethan. _And for something that enormously powerful, whoever was there didn't think to conceal themselves earlier?_

_Maybe we can only sense the Catalyst when it's being used._

_Or they had to reveal it to use it, but concealed it again immediately after._

_Should we check it out?_ wondered Alec.

_Mark the location,_ thought Aidan. _Things don't go great when we go off-script on these missions. But remember where it was._

_We can check it out afterwards,_ thought Teddy as they rumbled briefly through a patch of land.

_I have a better idea,_ thought Aethan. _Let me take over the minds of the crewmen. I can stay here on the Liner and keep the watch out for Albus, but you all can go out and continue the fight. Only one of us really has to stay on the Liner. Let that be me—give me something to signal you with if I find him or anything else interesting, and I'll stay here and the rest of you can continue the fight on the surface._

_Aethan, thank you so much,_ thought Aidan. _I think we have to take you up on that offer. Don't just look for Albus—look for Wilcox's Horcruxes if you can find them, too._

_Definitely,_ thought Aethan. _Good luck._

_We've passed Azkaban,_ thought Alec to them. _No dice. Albus isn't here or else he doesn't show up on the radar._

_I'll keep looking,_ thought Aethan. _For now, you can park and we'll redo the Imperius under my control and you all can disembark. Cynthia can get back to the moon to continue caring for Mia, and the rest of you can work on whatever is the next big plan._

_Stay moving,_ warned Alec. _Stay underwater. Don't stop anywhere too long, only what's necessary to send one of the crew out to get food for you. If you stop for too long they might find you._

_I'll be careful,_ thought Aethan, _but also remember that I won the Hogwarts seventh-year dueling championships, and have placed in the top ten in several world competitions since then._

_And Wilcox could probably beat the top ten combined,_ thought Aidan. _But thank you again. Stay safe._

_I will,_ thought Aethan. _I'm more worried about all of you. You'd better stay safe, too. And I won't rest until we've found Albus._

_Neither will we,_ thought Alec. _He's basically our Chosen One. He's cheated death too many times before to get killed by a bunch of cultists. I would even be willing to bet that he's already stumbled onto another incredible discovery._

O

Albus stirred out of a deep sleep. He was dreaming of a world free of torment and pain—serenity and love surrounded him on all sides as he drifted happily through a simple and fraughtless life.

He opened his eyes, dismayed to realize he was back in the world where hatred and hurting were so common, but smiled gently when he remembered how close he was to helping it heal by getting rid of the largest problem.

The covers were hovering over him; Adelina Nelson was examining his leg. She was murmuring soothing incantations softly. When she saw him looking down the bed at her, she smiled. "Hope I didn't wake you," she said. "Just making sure everything's healed all right."

"It at least doesn't ache anymore," said Albus. "Thank you."

"Oh no, thank _you,_ for dropping in here and giving us an update and a new cause to pursue. It's dreadfully boring down here."

"You could go out more often," said Albus.

"So could you," said Nelson. "But I'm guessing it would be stressful knowing what could happen if people realize who you are. That's the same for me. I could go out more often, but it's very exhausting to keep a consistent lie going in every part of your life. At least for now, I'm finding I prefer a quiet life here, researching and learning. And I've set things up so that when I die, my research will be released into the world. I believe that knowledge should be regarded not as an achievement that ends the conversation, but as the first step to global betterment… the first of many. But until I am done with my research, I'd rather no one know I'm still around."

Albus nodded. "I can understand that. What have you been researching?"

"Patronuses, mostly," said Nelson. "I've managed to confirm an old theory I had. It may help you one day, so I suppose now would be as good a time as any to tell you." She sat on the chair by the bed, straightening her back and shoulders proudly. "I've discovered a spell that can protect from the Killing Curse."

"Really?!" exclaimed Albus, sitting up; he felt a stabbing pain in his side and lay back down on the bed. "That's amazing! But… What does that have to do with a Patronus?"

"If you have a true, expertly cast corporeal Patronus, and you have it intercept the jet of the Killing Curse," said Nelson, "the curse will only Petrify, instead of kill. I've confirmed it myself. It's how I survived a Killing Curse from the man in the kitchen, in fact."

Albus's mind drifted back to his third year—he had been hit with a Killing Curse, too. Something clicked in his mind, and the wheels turned the way they had many times recently. When he had been hit with the Killing Curse and no one could figure out how he'd survived… His mother and father had cast Patronuses that were circling them to give them inner strength. The Killing Curse must have sailed through one of them. And he'd been Petrified instead of killed.

Well, that was one more mystery solved.

"Of course, the best option is not to get hit with the Killing Curse," said Nelson. "Moving a solid object in front of you is the best way. I'd imagine only maybe one in a hundred thousand wizards right now can cast a powerful enough Patronus to actually take advantage of that power… most people, if they attempted it, would have the curse still sail straight through their Patronus and kill them nonetheless. And there are other weapons—Muggle firearms, or other curses that have the power to kill, so it's not the most effective defense for every lethal situation. But it's comforting to know that the initial presumptions were wrong, that no spell could counter it. It's due to the Patronus's nature as an in-between spell… sort of playing at the power of the Spirit Guard Devoctrix, which is why it's so difficult to cast. The Spirit Guard can absorb the Killing Curse and nullify it completely. The Patronus can soften it. Now, this effect was actually tested before in history, but not since the recent advent of the more effective incantation by Petrosian, so prior attempts had failed. And I've recently begun workshopping an even better incantation that will up your chances of blocking a Killing Curse even more, maybe even eventually to the point that it won't even Petrify, just Stun or Body-Bind. But it makes sense—like how a basilisk's stare when reflected through a mirror and seen indirectly will only Petrify, a Killing Curse impacted indirectly through a Patronus as a medium will also only Petrify." She pulled out her wand. "I've found other uses for Patronuses, too—even healing. _Invocto Patronum._"

When the Patronus was cast, Albus was not expecting it—the burst of light was absolutely dazzling. When it faded, he couldn't even tell what creature her Patronus was—or was it even a corporeal Patronus? There were bands of light coiled around the room, passing through the walls because the Patronus was much, much too big to fit in the bedroom.

Then, the coils started sliding, and he realized what it was.

"Your Patronus is a _basilisk?_" he asked, as a snake head much larger than his bed phased through the wall into the room, staring at him.

"Yes," she said. "And Ingot's, too, once we… er…" She blushed. "It's been useful… a Patronus this enormous. A lot easier to study than if it was, say, a cricket."

She nodded to the basilisk Patronus, and it stretched its head out to Albus, jaw wide with enormous fangs headed towards him.

He felt like this was a situation in which he should feel terrified—it was, after all, the image of a basilisk preparing to swallow him—but as it closed its mouth around the entire bed, he felt pleasantness and warmth flow through him. The echoes of pain in his leg, and in his whole body in general, were dimming.

"It helps the healing process," said Nelson, "to be bathed in positivity. The Spirit Guard Devoctrix can also heal. But we try to cast as few Devoctrices as possible here, so we'd rather you heal naturally. The more we cast, the likelier something is to go wrong. The scent of the Devoctrices may overpower the concealment."

"I keep hearing people describe the 'scent' of the Devoctrices," said Albus. "What does that mean?"

"That's a very good question to ask," said Nelson. "When you use more and more of these types of spells, you become more and more familiar with them. Like how right after you learn a new word, you start to notice more and more when people use it, when your brain used to just tune it out because it was unfamiliar or desultory."

"Desultory?"

"Random, I mean," said Nelson. "Like, the word didn't seem like anything—maybe you glossed over it and didn't have a dictionary available or didn't have the time to look it up, so you didn't really even bother noticing it was there. Your brain just discarded it as random information that wasn't needed. But once the word is defined, and you can attach meaning to it, you may start to notice it more, or faintly remember seeing the word in the past.

"It's the same with the Scent of the Devoctrices. The experience of using them, or having one used on you, will make you more familiar with the power and energy associated with the spells. And then you will start to sense trickles and whispers of that energy elsewhere. Situations and items that seemed strange in a distinct way, but you weren't sure why. Suddenly, you will begin to connect the dots. And you'll never stop connecting them."

"Like reading auras," said Albus.

"I've never read an aura, so I wouldn't know," said Nelson, "but I would assume that that is accurate, since I would readily use this descriptor: the Scent is like reading the aura of the Devoctrices. And when you start to notice the aura, you will be able to consistently catch the Scent of the Devoctrices on those who have come into contact with the power. It became known as the Scent because that was the most accurate sense to make the comparison. You can smell someone who is smoking a cigarette. But you might still be able to smell it on their clothes and person even after they're finished. And if someone was hanging around in an area with cigarette smoke, you may be able to still smell that on them. Even if they didn't smoke themselves. Though this Scent can last a lot longer than smoke.

"But like most of the effects of the Devoctrices, this goes far beyond what regular senses or magic can do. If Helio has gone as far as you say, then he may well be able to follow the smell like a hunting hound. He could have used that to find every user of the Devoctrices and snuff them out."

"I carried the Bloodblade all that time," said Albus, shuddering. "That's probably why I drew so many people to Hogwarts to kill me. Desulgon said he had killed a lot of people who were coming to try and capture me. And the Invisibility Cloak, too… and Herpo's portals… wow. I must have been like a beacon."

"It is a good thing you had that man to protect you, even if he was not the greatest man by virtue," said Nelson. "The Devoctrices can make things a little complicated… Are you entirely sure he's gone for good?"

"I saw him through the Veil," said Albus. "He's gone."

"But you also saw Wilcox through the Veil."

"Wilcox cloned himself."

"And you know for a fact that Desulgon didn't?"

"It was the only Devoctrix he didn't know," said Albus. "Wilcox took extreme care, Desulgon thought, in locating and destroying everything ever written about that specific one Devoctrix, just so he could keep that trick up his sleeve as long as possible."

"Lucky that you found it out, then," said Nelson.

"Yeah," said Albus. "A lot of luck has been going my way."

"But is it all luck? Or another Desulgon-like guardian watching over you?"

Albus shrugged. "I don't know who would have been pulling the strings. Are you suggesting someone orchestrated me finding out about the clones?"

"Well, I think you might actually be able to follow the bread crumb trail all the way back to the source."

"What do you mean?"

Nelson tilted her head. "Well. How did you find it out? Let's walk through it together. You saw Desulgon in the Veil, and Desulgon communicated it to you. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Why were you at the Veil?"

"To destroy Pyron."

"Why were you destroying Pyron?"

"Because I reconstructed him and he didn't obey me like I thought he would."

"Who cast the final spell that bound Pyron back together from his three parts?"

Albus felt his brain buzzing as he tried to keep up with Nelson's deductive speed. "Draxler Cordot. He cast the spell to piece Pyron back together."

"Strange," said Nelson. "That a man who dedicated his entire life to eradicating Pyron from the world… would cast the final spell to bring Pyron back into the world."

"I think he was just insane," said Albus. "Cordot was serving Herpo the Foul. He chopped off his own hand to bring Herpo back. That's what the Contagion does to you."

"Believe me, I know. But in this case, the specific way in which he brought Herpo back caused Herpo's immediate downfall, and then his death just two years later, and Herpo barely had the chance to do any harm," said Nelson. "Whereas if someone else had brought Herpo back, he may have done a lot more damage before he was stopped. I'd bet he even wanted you to escape. He didn't have two differently-colored eyes, did he?"

"No," said Albus, "but it could have been colored contact lenses, like so many of us have already used. He said he cured the Contagion, but he could have gotten it back. He couldn't have cast another Devoctrix while he was a werewolf, but he found a way to stop himself from transforming; I remember he said so himself, that he used to be a werewolf but the transformations were 'annoying him,' so he 'stopped.' So maybe he just contracted the Contagion again."

"Or maybe," said Nelson, "he was doing exactly what he needed to do to ensure the fall of Herpo, Pyron, _and_ Wilcox, all in one fell swoop. He may have known through the Apportentous Devoctrix that this was the way to save the world—that bringing Pyron back at _that particular moment_ in time would somehow cause a chain reaction that not only removed Pyron from this world, but also destroyed Herpo and gained one step closer to ending Wilcox as well."

Albus felt dizzy from all the leaps of logic, but he had to at least admit the possibility. What was it Cordot had said when he brought back Pyron?

_You're the only one who can finish the job I started. I've waited thousands of years for this. Fulfilling all of the prophecies… fulfilling my entire life's mission. And then… I can go to rest… at last._

"Bloody hell," said Albus. "You're right. Cordot did all that just to complete his life's mission of making sure Pyron never wreaked that havoc on the world again… He knew I would stop Pyron, even if _I_ didn't know it. And he figured out he could cause the deaths of Herpo and one of the Wilcoxes as an added bonus if he set things up to happen at exactly the right times. Incredible. Absolutely insane."

"I'm willing to bet that he knew exactly when to revive Herpo, too," said Nelson. "He timed it so that Herpo was almost immediately vanquished again, and minimal people hurt. Then Herpo returned just in time to collect Aether for you, and hold him in a nice convenient location for you to access. And in the meantime, since everyone already knew Herpo was back, they were searching for his Horcrux, and your family destroyed it—so that next time Herpo was taken out, he would be gone for good. This is the power of the Devoctrices, Albus. It's like the one and only Felix Felicis himself is pissing liquid luck over everything you do. It's why Wilcox and Desulgon were able to do so much just by themselves."

"Wow," said Albus. He tried to hold back the awe and focus on the conversation at hand. "Er… back to the Scent?"

"Right," laughed Nelson, "but I'd say that was a rather productive birdwalk, wouldn't you? In any case yes, back to the Scent. Really, that's most of the basics, but I should add a couple of things in conclusion. One is that it will be very helpful of you to learn how to distinguish the Scent as fast as possible. And another is that once you leave this place—especially when you leave with the power of the Pandoran Catalyst all around you—you are going to stink to high hell. You may end up attracting Wilcox to you like a shark to blood. So I should warn you: When you leave here, whatever you need to do, you'd better do it very quickly and then get somewhere safe. Although I'm not sure anywhere on Earth would be very safe… Your best bet might honestly be Pluto, until you've become well-versed enough with the power of the Superstorm Devoctrix to defeat him. I don't say _confront_ him, you might notice—I say defeat him. He will not want to confront you. He will want to scheme and undermine and do things like kidnap your friends and family and torture them. He won't face you directly if he can accomplish victory with safer strategies like stabbing you in the back."

"What's your advice?"

"Grow eyes on your back," said Nelson.

"Can the Pandoran Catalyst do that?"

Nelson laughed. "I'm glad to hear you joke. But no, a better metaphor would actually be smell. Make sure you're always downwind of him. Give him no chance to catch your scent, but know where he is at all times. Learn the Scent."

"Can you teach me that?" asked Albus. "Do you know how to pick up the Scent?"

"I don't," said Nelson. "I wasn't familiar enough with that kind of magic until I came here… But this might be the worst place to try and learn the Scent. When a smell is all around you forever—like when you literally live above a relic of the Devoctrices, considering our house is positioned directly over the Catalyst—your brain tunes it out. Same here with the Devoctrices. You won't figure out what the scent is until you leave here and try to figure out what feeling you're missing now that you're gone."

"I understand."

"Speaking of you leaving, you're almost healed up," said Nelson. "You've only been here a couple of weeks—considering your injuries, you could have been out of action a lot longer if it had been any worse. Consider yourself lucky again, I suppose. And start reading this book."

She tossed him a book that looked like it was ancient; it was bound shoddily, not with the factory-like precision of modern books. The writing inside was handwritten. The title, penned with faded ink on the faded leather cover, was simply _Superstorm._

"Make sure you know what you're getting into," she said, "and how not to get in over your head. You don't want the children under Overlord Wilcox to be reading all about you in the same textbook they read about Dismiusa and Pyron and Gallen. You mess up with this, you're going to be altered a lot worse than just one eye."

"I know," said Albus. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Nelson. "The world is resting on your shoulders. Make sure you've got a good grip."

O

"I can't believe I haven't found this before," said Exo. "In all my time here. And you found it with limited vision."

"You just needed fresh eyes looking around," replied Mia, blinking hers, which were partially recovered. "And I very much have fresh eyes."

"What do you suppose it does?"

"Beats me."

They both stared at the button, which Mia had revealed upon tearing away a loose wall panel. It was large and red and labeled "Emergency".

"I'm gonna press it," said Mia.

"What?! No! We don't know what it does."

"But we're in an emergency," said Mia. "Wilcox is about to take over the whole goddamned planet, and depending on how many world leaders he's juiced with MM, he may have already done that. That's an emergency in my book. What if the button unveils some awesome weapon we can use?"

"What if it terminates any intruders—meaning anyone who isn't Desulgon—meaning _us?_"

"Nah, that wouldn't make sense," said Mia. "I'm gonna press it."

She stepped towards it; Exo grabbed her wrist and pulled it back. "No! Don't! We should wait. Maybe wait until Cynthia wakes up, and ask her advice. Or wait until everyone else comes back again, so we can take it to a group vote. Or we could also wait forever and never push the button."

"My name is Mia _Moon,_" said Mia. "And we're on the moon. I'm basically the empress of this place."

"That's cute, but—"

"They named the moon after me."

"I tend to doubt that," said Exo. "Maybe we should ask Dumbledog."

He whistled, and the super-intelligent dog living on the moon base, whom Exo had named Dumbledog, came trotting over.

"Hey Dumbledog," said Exo. "What does this button do?"

Dumbledog barked.

"That was informative," said Mia dryly.

Suddenly, she thrust her hand out too rapidly for Exo to intercept, and she slammed the button down.

"Wait!" cried Exo. "No! _We don't know what that's going to do!_"

A low rumble filled the entire moon base, and Exo feared the worst.

But then he looked down at Dumbledog, whose tail was wagging faster than it ever had. He was panting excitedly with a huge grin on his face.

"Then let's find out," said Mia, as Dumbledog barked happily, over and over again.

O

Albus dangled his legs, his knees curled around the bed's corner. He took a deep breath, and decided it was best to go it as if he were going into a cold pool; he pushed himself off all at once.

His legs buckled slightly under the pressure after having been sedentary for weeks, but Nelson wouldn't let him stand until he was ready. After readjusting to the fondly familiar pressure, he straightened his legs all the way, and took off the hand that was steadying himself on the bedside desk. He took a few gentle steps and took deep breaths, fully taking in the experience and learning to appreciate walking again.

His heart was beating abnormally fast, and his breaths seemed short. He looked up at Nelson worriedly. "I feel a little faint."

"That can happen after so much time horizontal," said Nelson. "I think you're fine. No pains anywhere? No tightness where you were Splinched?"

"No, not at all. Nothing. Apart from this being a lot more exhausting than usual, I feel totally normal."

"That's great to hear," said Nelson, smiling widely. "Do you think you're ready, then?"

"As I'll ever be," said Albus. "One of the last things I did with my friends was have an argument about how important every day is. And given I've been gone so long already, they may be considering it less and less likely that I'm even alive. I don't want to keep them worrying."

"Won't they be intrigued to know what you've been up to," said Nelson with a smirk. "And so, you remember…"

"I know," said Albus. "I'm going to refer to you two only as the guardians of the Catalyst, never by name. I won't tell a single person about you two still being alive. I swear it on my life."

"I believe you," said Nelson. "Just wanted to remind you. And remember—once you have access to the Catalyst, you will be able to go there directly; you won't need us to let you in anymore. And we'd rather you _not_ drop in for casual visits. If you are in desperate need—if you need to use Cordot's library again or need advice or assistance that only we can give—then by all means, you are welcome. But we will have to treat you as a stranger until we can confirm your identity, of course."

"Of course."

"And never bring anyone else with you," said Nelson. "Understood? Never, ever bring anyone else with you. You can bring them to the Catalyst. But not to our house. Maybe the Catalyst will become common knowledge someday; maybe people will figure out how to use it for good. I doubt it but I won't rule it out completely. But Gallen and I, unless the situation changes, would prefer that we remain a secret. And every extra person who is aware we are here, however pure their intentions are of never telling, becomes a liability to our safety and security."

"I promise," said Albus. "I will never tell anyone and never bring anyone to the house. Maybe to the Catalyst. Not to the house."

"I would advise against coming back to the Catalyst for some time," said Ingot, watching from the doorway with his arms folded. "You've discussed the Scent, yes? Wilcox will be tracking your every cough and twitch. I would highly recommend against leading him straight here."

"I might send my friends to the Catalyst, then," said Albus. "The more of us with the power, the better."

Ingot shook his head. "They won't be able to find it—not since Addie sealed it off the map again. Only you, since she's going to bring you to it. And the Catalyst will need some time to cool, anyway. An endeavor as big as this… might be months before anyone will be able to use it. It took a week to cool down after we used it merely to conceal ourselves again after you found us."

"How will I know when it's cooled down?"

"The Enzymes will start moving again," said Ingot. "That's what my great-great-grandmother named the… well, they're hard to describe, but you'll see. The black snow-like particles that guide your hands."

Albus nodded, but something else struck him. "Wait, though. If nobody can find the Catalyst, shouldn't I not have to worry about Wilcox finding it, even if I lead him right here?"

"If you lead him right here," said Nelson, "and he knows the Catalyst is here, he's going to do everything in his power to uncover it, and we don't know how much power the term 'everything in his power' packs. Your friends wouldn't be able to find it, but he may very well be able to… I wouldn't risk it, in either case."

"Agreed," said Albus. "So… am I going now, then?"

"Have you studied the Superstorm Devoctrix enough from the books I've given you? Learned how to move your arms from Cordot's notes, and Gallen's additional pointers on how to better control it and not let it affect your mind as strongly?"

"As much as I could practice without actually casting it," affirmed Albus.

"So if you say you're ready, then you're ready," said Nelson. "And we can go right now, if you want."

"I do," said Albus. "I'm ready."

"Follow me," said Nelson, cracking a smile, and she left the room. Albus wobbled slightly as he followed, unbalanced due to still getting used to his feet again. Ingot stepped aside to let Nelson pass, and nodded to Albus as he slowly walked past.

"Take it from me," said Ingot. "Anyone doing what I did, but doing it _before_ contracting the Chaos Contagion… does not deserve to live. Kick his arse."

"I will."

"Come, Albus," said Nelson. "We need to minimize your exposure to the outside world as much as possible, so we have to go right from this door to the door of the Catalyst. Stay close to me."

A thought raced through Albus's head very suddenly, and he wondered why he didn't think of it before. "Wait!" he said. "I… I do have another favor to ask you. Before I go. And it may require my coming back here."

"We'd very much prefer to avoid that," said Nelson, "but what is it?"

"I have a goblin-made sword," said Albus. "Wilcox has two Horcruxes I need to destroy, but we don't have any capability to destroy them. Basilisk venom can do it, though. And… you have a basilisk." Nelson nodded as she saw where he was going with the process. "I don't imagine I would need to _kill_ it with the sword, I think I just need to get some venom on the sword's blade, and it'll imbibe the effects. You haven't… er… defanged it or anything, have you?"

"I haven't, actually," said Nelson, "in the case that we get unwanted visitors. I think we could arrange that. Right?"

"I don't see why not," grunted Ingot. "But he should do it right now, then. We would prefer you not come back. And if you do come back, I must emphasize again, _don't bring anyone._"

"I swear on my life," said Albus. "I will try not to get into a situation where I need to come back here… If I do, I will never mention your names, even if I bring anyone to the Catalyst. And I swear I will never bring anyone else to this house."

Nelson drummed her fingers rhythmically on her cheek; she seemed to be tossing an idea around in her head. She turned and hissed in Parseltongue; moments later, her basilisk Jedeza slithered around the corner and curled up her leg; its blindfold was still on, but it seemed to sense where she was by her call. She cooed in a soft whisper, and it slunk back, looking a little upset. Nelson patted her head, stroking down her back as if this merciless death machine was just a cat.

Nelson began walking over slowly towards Albus; Jedeza was hiding her head in the crook of Nelson's arm. "Her name pronounced in Parseltongue sounds more like _Chetessa,_" she said, uncoiling the snake slowly. "And I'll give you a few other basic commands to commit to memory; they'll come in handy—"

"Wait, _what?!_" sputtered Albus. "Are—you're not—are you—"

His question was answered when Nelson unwrapped the basilisk from her neck all the way and draped her across Albus's shoulders. Albus involuntarily tightened essentially every single muscle in his body, and though the snake was surprisingly light, he felt even weaker in the legs than he already did from the recovery.

"Don't take the blindfold off until you need to," said Nelson. "She is young but very much lethal and you don't want that unfortunate accident. And don't jab your hand into her mouth, either, though that one should have been pretty obvious…"

"I… are you sure?" said Albus, straining the words through clenched teeth and an incredibly tense overall body.

"You need her more than we do in the fight you have coming on," said Nelson. "I thought you were going to be happier about it."

"I would have been," said Albus, "but last time a Potter was this close to a basilisk, it wasn't the prettiest interaction…"

"Well, I've instructed Jedeza to take good care of you. Don't bring her near any roosters."

"Er… I'll try."

"And she needs to be fed regularly. One rat twice a month."

"One… just one? Just two a month, I mean? Er—"

"And she loves to swim and dig, so make sure she has enough room to play when she's idle. But no swimming or digging for at least three days after eating. And—"

"Addie," said Ingot gently, "he's a warrior fighting a nearly omnipotent tyrant… not a nanny."

"Right," said Nelson, blushing. "Just… bring her back after, okay?"

"I feel like I should come with a disclaimer," said Albus, a bit worried about being given responsibility for Nelson's life companion. "You should know that death tends to follow me around."

"And now you're carrying death with you on your shoulders," said Nelson, smiling. "I know death follows you, Albus Potter. I'm hoping Jedeza will even the odds a bit for you. I know how these sorts of wars go…" She shrugged in Ingot's direction, and he shrugged back with a grimace. "There will be loss; the risk is worth it. Jedeza can handle herself, though… just cast a Supersensory Charm and close your eyes when she takes her blindfold off. She doesn't have hands, so that's her version of 'taking the gloves off.'"

"Thank you," said Albus, cracking a smile through the cold scales sliding across the back of his neck as Jedeza coiled around his left arm. "I don't know how one usually thanks someone for loaning you their basilisk… if there's a specific thank-you card for that sort of thing or something, I'll find one and send it to you. I just really don't know what to say. But… thank you."

"Bring her home if you can," said Ingot, "but know that bringing yourself home is the most important thing."

Nelson nodded in agreement and gestured to the door.

Albus walked slowly, trying not to make his movements too sudden while this terrifying creature, with a gaze and a bite that could both kill, also had a stranglehold on his neck.

As they stepped outside the house into the Egyptian sands once more, Nelson closed the door behind them. The house was invisible, of course, so Albus was only able to see the view of the interior through the door when they had stepped out; once the door closed, he couldn't see a trace of the house at all, not even any vague imprint in the sand.

As Nelson walked, a rut of sand was carving a path in front of her. She walked through it and gestured for Albus to follow, and he did. Then the sand cleared over a small stone seal with an intricate design just ahead of Nelson, and she stepped onto it. Albus joined her, though he was hesitant at first to step on the beautifully carved stone; it seemed too sacred to stand on. But Nelson took his arm and pulled him in. The space inside the seal was just large enough for the two of them.

They started to shrink; or the sand and the seal were both growing. Either way, the effect was the same, until they were standing on a seal the relative size of a house. Then the world around them began to dim, and suddenly, the world around them pivoted all the way around, like a coin that was flipping in midair; but the seal stood stable and unmoved as the entire rest of the world spun upside down. But then, just like it could have been that either the seal was growing or that Albus and company were shrinking, it could have been that either the world was turning or just the seal on which they were standing was turning.

What was on the other side of the world when the one hundred and eighty degree rotation had concluded was utterly amazing, and Albus could only assume it was what was known as the Pandoran Catalyst.

It was like a little universe inside a Quidditch-pitch-sized room, but with the colors swapped: the expanse around them was pure white and the stars were black. And it was as if he were watching the universe on fast-forward, with all the stars rushing around the room like insects, moving in clusters through shifting currents. These must have been what Ingot referred to as the "Enzymes". But though the Catalyst was black and white, some entrancing optical illusion was causing shimmers of color whenever his eyes moved around it. Likewise, though the ambient sound in the Catalyst was like wind and water rushing over stone, every time adjusted his ears to listen around him, he caught whispers of song, like a soft chorus of phoenixes in the distance; like the royal phoenix's call, it sounded like not just a phoenix song, but a phoenix anthem. This was a place he could stay forever and never see or hear the same thing twice.

"Step into the Catalyst," offered Nelson. "It's not a good idea for a bystander to be in the Catalyst while it's being activated, so I will be headed out. But now that you've been here, you are past our Illusiveil Devoctrix and you should be able to locate the Catalyst again with your Hocus-Focuser any time you need to come back. Keep in mind, of course, that depending on how effectively you cast the Superstorm, the Catalyst could be out of commission for up to a month or more while the Enzymes recharge. If you do it as powerfully as you can without going insane… maybe even two months. So make this punch count. But not too much—as I said, and as I'm sure you know from reading Cordot's notes, cast it too powerfully like Gallen did and you'll go nuts like Gallen did."

"I'll do my best," said Albus, and he stepped off of the seal. The Enzymes parted around him as he walked, and he looked around, entranced.

"Start moving your arms," instructed Nelson. "It will take a little while for the Enzymes to figure out exactly what you're trying to do and start to match up. If you start moving your arms, you'll set off the first ripples that will shape the current in the direction you seek."

Albus did so; moving his arms in the path of the Superstorm Devoctrix, he felt the Enzymes bend around him, and like he'd dipped an oar into a small pond and stirred, the current of floating black particles was shifting in the directions he had started moving.

"Keep doing a bit of the movements every once in a while and the current will get stronger until you feel the power start to surge around you," said Nelson. "And then you will know it's time to cast the spell for real. In the meantime, we should practice some Parseltongue."

Albus moved his arms again, and when his altered current picked up a little bit in velocity, he looked over to Nelson and nodded.

"Repeat after me," said Nelson, and she taught him a few quick commands in Parseltongue for Jedeza. _Come here_ was a rush of air out from the back of the throat, followed by a guttural stop, which together sounded almost like _hi-yah;_ _attack_ sounded like _woy-swit,_ with two bubbles of air forced out the front of the mouth; he also learned _go there, stop, help me, yes,_ and _no,_ and practiced _no attack,_ which might come in handy if he ran back across Aidan and Alec, whom Jedeza would not recognize. Seeming to finally be satisfied with Albus's progress in the language lesson, Nelson backed away towards the center of the seal.

Jedeza seemed to sense that Nelson was leaving; despite being blindfolded, the snake oriented its head in her direction. Nelson smiled. "Be good, girl." She whispered some words in Parseltongue, then looked up at Albus again. "Keep each other safe."

"We will," said Albus at the same time that Jedeza let out a soft hiss.

Nelson stepped into the direct center of the seal, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished.

Albus swallowed a lump in his throat. "_Go there,_" he said as best he could, and lowered himself down to shrug Jedeza off his shoulders. The basilisk turned its head to face him; through the blindfold, he could almost sense its eyes rolling at the poor pronunciation. He nudged Jedeza towards the seal, and when she had reached the edge of the seal, he told her _stop;_ he didn't want the snake going into the center and vanishing on him. Jedeza paused obediently, but curled herself up in gloom at her owner's departure.

Albus sent his hands along the current again, and he felt a slight buzz through the skin on his arms. It wasn't fully what he expected when Nelson had said he'd feel the power "surging," so he waited a while and repeated the initial motions of the Superstorm Devoctrix a few more times with shorter delays in between.

Eventually, the tingling sensation spread all throughout his body, and then he felt the current rushing all around his body, carrying the immense power he was expecting. It was the sort of feeling he experienced when the Killing Curse soared close to his body: a vast power moving by him, so strong that he could feel the energy packed in the punch even when it wasn't hitting him directly.

"All right," said Albus, and he set his feet slightly further apart to strengthen his stance, and then he set his arms to work.

He had practiced the movements many times, and lacked no confidence in his muscle memory, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else he was supposed to do. But then, as he reached roughly the midway point, he felt his arms catch the current even more strongly, and he hardly needed to move them at all as his arms were carried through the motions by the natural flow he'd set off in the Enzymes. He gasped as he slowly rose into the air, with the Enzymes swirling all around him like a tornado, and now he couldn't stop his arms even if he wanted to—

Then he reached the end of the arm movements, and the Enzymes all ground to a halt where they were. He slowly descended towards the ground. Jedeza turned her head to face him, a forked tongue probing the environment that she somehow noticed had changed.

He didn't feel any more powerful than before, but he supposed he would have to find that out. He waved his hand, trying to make the ground do something.

Nothing happened.

Well, it certainly had _felt_ like he'd accomplished something… Maybe he had control over plants, like Dismiusa, and there weren't any in here. But he had followed the same instructions that Ingot had followed, so he had assumed it would be more like Ingot's power over the earth and natural disasters…

Maybe he simply couldn't utilize the power in here, inside the Catalyst. He stepped in the direction of the seal.

"_Come here,_" he hissed to Jedeza in the best Parseltongue he could manage… and somehow, his Parseltongue seemed to have improved. Was that just confidence, or was it another effect of his newfound control over nature? Either way, Jedeza sprang out of her coil and raced towards him, curling up around his leg and back around his shoulders.

Albus walked towards the center of the seal. He expected to disappear and reappear on the outside like Nelson had vanished, but instead, it was the same way he'd entered: rotation of the world like he was standing on a flipping coin; maybe teleportation was just what it looked like to any outside observer. He was standing back out in the Egyptian desert, standing on the seal but with the Ingot house nowhere in sight.

And before he could even make a decision on how to test out the power of the Pandoran Catalyst, he noticed something interesting: grains of sand were rolling in his direction from all sides. At first he assumed it was because the sand had cleared over the seal, so he was on a slight downward slope. But even when the sand reached the horizontal surface of the seal, the sand still rolled in his direction, slowly but surely climbing over the grooves in the seal and headed towards his feet.

Maybe the seal was just about to be obscured by the desert again… Albus stepped off the seal and onto the nearest sand dune, and suddenly, sand poured in over the seal, covering it back up again and leaving no visible trace.

But grains of sand were still rolling up the dune on which he was standing, piling up against his shoes.

Albus turned around, facing another vast expanse of sand. He swiped his arm left, towards the setting sun.

There was a great rumble, and then a tidal wave of sand burst from the ground and crashed west, in the direction he'd swiped. He whipped his arm around in a circle, and a great sand tornado whipped up instantly, tearing northward and carving a sand canyon in its path.

He had the power of the Superstorm Devoctrix fueled by the Pandoran Catalyst.

Wilcox was going down.

He looked around the desert, and angled himself opposite the setting sun; east. He didn't have a broom, and it was too far to Apparate, but he needed to get to Australia. Maybe…

He looked down at the ground, and sank into the sand. The sand closed up above him, but he was standing in a small pocket of air below the desert surface.

Jedeza angled her head with concern and hissed, but Albus knew exactly what he was doing, and he felt incredibly powerful. Next, he leaned forward, and suddenly he was tunneling through the sand at breakneck speed, barreling underground like the Subterrestrial Express. The sand in front of him was parting and closing back up behind him.

He was traveling much faster than broom. How much faster, he didn't know. Soon, he felt a strange vibration in front of him, and he somehow instinctively knew there was bedrock ahead. But he dashed onward anyway, and the rock cleaved as easily as the sand had. Just minutes later, after the same intense pace through the rock as he had moved through the sand, he sensed water coming up. He quickly read his surroundings with a pulse like energy-based echolocation and determined it was a large body of water, maybe the Indian Ocean, but possibly the Red Sea. He plowed through to the water, and then he was darting through like an arrow in a thin bubble of air, his speed perhaps even rivaling the speed of the Loch Stock Liner through Digher Straits.

He laughed into the little bubble surrounding him, from the sheer incredulity of the experience. He felt Jedeza tighten around his neck; the basilisk was unable to figure out what the hell was going on. He reached a hand up and patted Jedeza's head to make her feel a little more comfortable, and then redoubled his focus and his speed increased even further.

After a minute, he slowed himself down to a stop. It occurred to him that he hadn't really tested out what he could do yet, and it might be prudent to do that before getting engaged in another battle. He slowly rose until he broke the surface of the water. The sun was dipping into the horizon; there was flat water in every direction, but not a cloud in the sky. Albus took a deep breath, and then thrust a fist up at the sky.

Clouds formed out of nowhere, and lightning began to strike all around him. Tornados began to spawn, and the ocean caved to generate massive waves that roared, crested, and crashed around the whirlpool that was birthing under his feet. He lowered his fist, and suddenly it was a beautifully pristine day again.

He took heaving breaths; it was exhausting using that much power, but it was on the most immense scale he'd ever seen. Studying directly from Cordot's notes, annotated by Gallen Ingot who had used the Superstorm Devoctrix and had made comments on how to improve the form, he had already fully accessed the power of the Superstorm and was already controlling it to the extent that Ingot had at his strongest. The quest to reconstruct Pyron had not gone quite as planned, but somehow he'd ended up with an equally destructive force.

And he intended to put it to good use.

He set back on his underwater flight to Australia to find Dodecus and Rebecca; perhaps they could signal his friends somehow. They had been running around and nipping at Wilcox's ankles for some time. But now it was time to strike back, hard, right in the heart.

Cat and mouse was over. The real fight was about to begin.

O

"Where am I?"

Exo and Mia stared dumbfounded at the newcomer, unable to respond out of shock. He was a dashing young man, with sleek jet-black hair and cyan eyes. With his strong jaw, muscular build, unblemished skin, and crisp stubble, wearing a tight-fitting black Muggle shirt and blue jeans, he looked like he might have been a movie star. His features were all so perfect that he looked like he wasn't even real, like he was the after-product of a lot of Muggle photo-shopping and video editing that they used to make someone look better in film than in real life.

So why in the name of Merlin did this person just ascend out of the floor in a bubble in Desulgon's moon base?

The man rubbed his eyes. "I don't remember anything. Why—why is it so hard to see? I think… the last I remember is… an idea… I had this crazy idea, but I can't… God, why can't I _think?_ Why aren't my senses working?"

"Calm down," said Mia. "Take your time. We're here to help you."

"I don't know who 'we' is, I don't know where 'here' is, and I don't know what 'I' am!" blurted the man. "I can only barely hear you, it's like your voice is being scrambled around and I have to pick up the pieces. Tell me where I am, at least."

"That's… complicated," said Exo with a grimace. This guy's brain seemed to be overloaded enough—possibly kidnapped by Desulgon, brought up to this secret base, and frozen in time and preserved until they hit the button labeled "Emergency", at which time he'd phased through the floor and woken up. Were they really going to throw him for the loop of now telling him he was on the _moon,_ of all places?

"How can it be _complicated?!_ Tell me what locations we're _near,_ then, if we're not on the map?"

"Er… we're near Australia," said Exo, which was true—it was just beyond the laser transporter.

"Australia? Who… where… what…" He squinted, trying to see his surroundings better. "Is everything supposed to be silver? It's all so fuzzy…"

"Once he can see," whispered Mia in Exo's ear, "he's going to see the Earth outside the window. We might as well tell him."

"Or we should bring him into another room," said Exo, "so he can adjust and not get completely overwhelmed by all this crazy information at once!"

Mia turned to face the man. "You're on the moon," she said.

Exo slapped a palm against his face.

"The… the moon…" The man's breathing finally seemed to slow. "Oh… of course! That… that makes sense."

"It does?" asked Exo, surprised.

"Yes, it's coming back to me! I must have… huh…"

"Oh," said Exo. "Good… I guess. I honestly wasn't expecting you to process that right away, let alone process it _well._"

The man looked over at Exo. "I know your voice," he said. "I… Exorian Wilcox!"

Exo blinked. "You know me?"

"Yes! You're… you're here, and is that Mia?"

Exo and Mia stared at him, bewildered. But the man looked even more bewildered.

"But… how did you, if I didn't…" He shook his head again.

"We know this is a weird situation you're finding yourself in," said Mia. "Our situation is weird, too, with you having appeared when we pressed a button… we're not sure what to make of that yet. We'll have some questions for you too, like who you are and how you know us, but you seem to be way more thrown off by recent events, so we should probably put you at ease first before we start in on our own questions. So, ask us anything. We'll answer honestly."

"We will?" mumbled Exo to her.

"Okay," said the stranger. "First and most important question."

He stood up.

"Why are you on my moon base?"

Exo and Mia gasped as one, almost comically loudly, as Dumbledog trotted over to the stranger's side and panted happily as he stood up on his back legs and put his front legs on the man's chest.

"Oh hello, Wes, my boy!" laughed the man, tousling the fur on the dog's head. "How's my little genius dog?"


	25. On the Scent

_**Conspiracy theorists, rejoice again.**_

_**Two chapters today. Two chapters tomorrow. And the last three plus epilogue, the day after tomorrow. We're on the home stretch. Thanks for being here to see it. :)**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ON THE SCENT

O

Exo clapped a hand over his mouth. Mia stared.

"_Your_ moon base?" asked Exo. "Was this your moon base first, before Dalton Desulgon was here?"

He had never considered the possibility that someone else had built this base, and that Desulgon had merely occupied it like a hermit crab entering a shell. Did Desulgon duel down the original builder of the moon base and keep him sedated here while he took it over?

But under the surface, he knew exactly what was going on. His brain just wasn't processing it fully right away, due to the insanity of the conclusion that it implied.

"Is there something I'm missing?" asked the man. "What do you mean, 'before Dalton Desulgon was here?'"

"We came here under the impression that this moon base belonged to a man named Dalton Desulgon," said Mia. "But he's dead now."

The man frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Dalton Desulgon was a man who was able to cast extremely powerful spells," said Mia. "He used to be a professor of—"

"—Transfiguration at Hogwarts, yes, I'm very aware," said the man. "And are you quite sure he's dead?"

"Positive," said Exo.

"Well, that would be news to me," said the man, flexing his muscles, stretching his arms, cracking his neck. "I certainly don't _feel_ dead."

Before Mia and Exo's jaws could hit the ground, Cynthia walked around the corner, rubbing her eyes.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked, before her eyes fell upon the stranger and she yelped. "Who is this?!"

"Cynthia?!" exclaimed the man, turning to face her; his eyes lit up. "Cynthia, you're here too?! It's… it's me."

"Who's 'me'?" she asked, her hands trembling nervously.

"It's me, Cynthia," said the man. "It's Dalton."

He looked around nervously, seeing everyone's faces slowly growing in more and more shock.

"Oh my God," breathed Mia. "I know what this is."

"You do?" asked three voices at once.

Mia nodded. "Alec was telling me what Albus told him. It may have gotten a little shaky through several layers of translation, but Alec remembered something that Albus heard from Professor Desulgon, about whether or not the Devoctrices could bring back the dead. Professor Desulgon said something about how it wasn't possible to bring back the dead… but it might be possible to take someone's consciousness and put it into another body—"

"Why are you talking about me as though I'm not here?" growled the man in front of them. "I remember saying that to Albus. I told him that with the Devoctrices, it might be possible to create a perfect copy of someone else's consciousness and put it into a perfect copy of their body. But I don't know if that qualifies as bringing back the dead, and I've been exploring the idea but I've certainly not gotten anywhere with it yet."

"I think you have," said Cynthia quietly, looking the stranger up and down.

"What… what are you…"

The blue-eyed stranger set off at a run towards the glass wall; he slipped on unsteady footing and almost smacked headfirst into the glass. He looked at his reflection in the surface, and his confused look turned to horror.

"No," he mumbled, staggering around, this time from shock rather than finding his footing on unfamiliar legs. "No. This can't be… This isn't… Please… Let me change back. I'm Omnijuiced right now." He closed his eyes, then opened them again and looked at the dark hair lining his arms. "Then I'm dreaming. This is a horribly real and vivid nightmare. Please…" He smacked himself in the head with the bone at the end of his wrist several times. "No," he moaned. "NO!"

"Calm down," said Mia. "Calm down! Talk to us. It will help you make sense of everything. Just calm down and talk to us to gather your thoughts."

"You don't understand," he pleaded. "I know what's happening now. I'm… I'm not me. I'm a _copy_ of me, and not even in a body that looks like my own because I was designed not to have Dalton's face so as not to attract Dalton's enemies. I'm a robot designed to have a handful of his thoughts and actions programmed in my head—designed to think I'm real!"

"If you were designed to think you're real," argued Mia, "you did a piss-poor job with the design, because you're obviously having an identity crisis that you wouldn't be having if you only had a few thoughts and actions programmed into you!"

Desulgon wasn't verbally freaking out anymore, but his breathing was still rapid, like a terrified animal in a corner.

"You might have cloned yourself," said Cynthia. "That's the twenty-third Devoctrix."

"No, I didn't know that," said Desulgon, shaking his head. "That wouldn't have been possible. I know exactly what happened. I can fully extrapolate based on the last few things I remember." He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "The last thing I remember is finding a way to map my entire brain. That's the very last thing I remember… because that was what happened right before I mapped my brain for the purposes of inserting it into an alternate body if I ever got that far. The brain I have now _is that map!_ And I figured that out in May of 2023, so I don't know anything that happened past then, since I mapped out everything my brain contained in that May but anything I learned past then, I don't know. What day is it now, what month, what year?"

"It's January," said Exo. "2024."

"So I haven't missed _that_ much, compared to how much I could have," said Desulgon, sighing. "But what I'm saying is… I figured out that idea, how to map my brain, in May of 2023. Anything that happened after that, like I assume whenever I discovered the last Devoctrix, I don't remember. Because the brain that's in this new body is the brain that I had back in May of 2023."

"You didn't discover the last Devoctrix," said Mia. "Wilcox did."

"Helio?" asked Desulgon, blinking in confusion. "Did he and I team up against the Man in the Shadows?"

Exo grimaced. "Er… I think you actually _did_ miss quite a lot."

"His dad _is_ the Man in the Shadows," said Mia, jabbing a thumb over at Exo.

Desulgon staggered backwards, clutching his head.

Exo shook his head, sighing at Mia. "I think you need to work on how you break people gently into shocking news."

"How can that be?" breathed Desulgon. "I ruled him out. He never left Hogwarts, he never communicated magically or physically with anyone outside the school…"

"The clone he had in Hogwarts didn't," said Mia. "There were three clones of Wilcox; now there are two of him left after the servant of Herpo the Foul helped Albus rebirth Pyron, who promptly incinerated one of the clones."

"What did I just say?!" groaned Exo.

"Tell me," said Desulgon, his eyes darting between all three others in the room as he sat down and cuddled with Dumbledog (or, rather, Wes) for moral support. "Tell me everything."

"That I can do," said Mia, and she sat down for what was going to be a very long explanation.

O

Albus surfaced in a stretch of desert; not sand like in Egypt, but simply rock. He was in Australia somewhere, but he wasn't sure where.

He took out the Hocus-Focuser, and held it out to see where Dodecus might be. It was pointing backwards; he must have passed over it.

He turned around and was about to head off in that direction, but then the Hocus-Focuser turned around as well, and he realized it was pointing to _him._ Duh… He wasn't going to be able to find Dodecus and Rebecca that way.

He tried to calm his nerves; this was just a minor setback. He could send sonar through the ground; he'd be able to find Dodecus and Rebecca. Unless, of course, they were concealing themselves so that only the Hocus-Focuser could find them…But then again, he was carrying the power of the Devoctrices with him, so he should be able to find them using Devoctrical power as well as the Hocus Focuser. He also did know the arm movements for casting the Celetect Devoctrix—he'd studied it while he had access to Cordot's library—but he didn't fancy casting it without a Catalyst, for fear of the returned Contagion. And besides, he'd need an object connected to them if he were to be able to locate them using the specific variant of the Celetect Devoctrix that he'd studied.

He closed his eyes to concentrate for a moment.

Then he noticed something very peculiar.

As he closed his eyes, there was a strange sensation coming from the Hocus-Focuser that was still in his hand. It wasn't tingling any of his normal human senses… it was affecting something magical inside his head. A sense he'd, until now, only used when he was locating and reading auras.

The Scent.

He placed the Hocus-Focuser back in his pocket, but he still couldn't tune it out; nor could he tune out the Resurrection Stone now as he began to notice its unique vibrations. Their auras were overpowering his senses now as he began to notice the Scent for the first time…

What was it that Parker had said when he was teaching Albus about auras?

His eyes welled up with tears as he remembered what happened to Parker, but his friend's advice bubbled back up to the surface of his mind.

_Turn it back off. Like closing your eyes. Or putting your hands over your ears. Of course, those don't completely end the senses—you can still hear a little bit when you plug your ears, most of the time—but it'll be much dimmer. In the background. And you can access the information any time you notice something happening in that background._

He imagined that the Resurrection Stone was like a fly crawling on the outside of a window, and the Bloodblade was the sound of a ticking clock. He could ignore them, tune them out if he tried, just like what he was connecting them to in his metaphors. The Invisibility Cloak, he didn't even need to worry about—it hid itself perfectly well anyway, and not even the Hocus-Focuser could track it as a Devoctrix.

He concentrated hard, but it was very difficult to adapt to the new sense; a seventh sense, he supposed, since he could already somewhat read auras.

He Conjured a small pouch and put the Resurrection Stone inside it, and then wrapped it in the Invisibility Cloak, as he tended to do when he was using the Hocus-Focuser so it didn't get distracted—he just didn't like to wrap the Bloodblade for fear of tearing the Cloak apart. He stowed the Cloak, and the Resurrection Stone's Scent disappeared from his mind. He gave himself a quick slice on a fingertip with the Bloodblade and then tossed it; with a quick command from his mind, a harsh gust of wind generated under it and sent it flying so far in the distance that it disappeared from view.

He took a deep breath and concentrated again. But there was another Scent he was noticing, and this one was much stronger than any of the others—it was coming from his own body. He had interacted with so many Devoctrices, and now had the power of a Catalyst backing him… He supposed he stank to high hell with the Scent, so it probably wasn't a good idea to stay out in the open for long.

He could sense the Bloodblade still, even so far away… but that was good, because it implied he could smell the Scent across a great distance. Maybe he _would_ be able to find Dodecus and Rebecca this way.

If not, he could always trek back to the Catalyst and cast that Celetect Devoctrix—maybe give Katarina Pinzel a visit to obtain an artifact of Rebecca's. He couldn't imagine Katarina Pinzel wouldn't be on his side, and she should definitely have some of Rebecca's possessions, being her mother and all…

He didn't even realize it immediately, but there was another Scent drifting towards him.

It was very faint, like it had lingered for a long time before reaching him, but he could sense that some other Devoctrix had been around here, and recently. His heart whirred into a happy beat. While he couldn't be guaranteed that it was the lunar portal he was sensing, it sure seemed like it. It had a particular scent, like he'd been around it before; not as much as the Bloodblade, but it was certainly a relic that he'd encountered many times.

He sped off in the direction he thought he was catching it from, burrowing back under the ground. It wasn't the strongest of scents, but he was losing it under the surface. He popped back aboveground, but was disappointed to notice that he'd lost the scent completely. Was he getting too good at ignoring the Scent and starting to ignore things he shouldn't be? Or was he just headed in the wrong direction?

He turned back around, and dove underground again to tunnel at high speeds back in the other direction. He slowly started to pick up the Scent, stronger and stronger.

He sent out echoes through the ground, and picked up the sonar-like vibrations; just rocks ahead for a long while, but maybe he simply wasn't close enough to sense it yet. Nevertheless, he kept strongly in touch with the Scent; Dodecus and Rebecca's dwelling could be hidden, and he might pass it without realizing if he didn't notice the Scent dimming.

But then, as the Scent became overpowering, he stopped a hundred yards away from a large hole in the ground, which he could sense was furnished and decorated. He lifted himself up and opened up the ground once more, then stepped out onto the craggy rock surface of the desert floor again. He stepped over until he was standing over Dodecus and Rebecca's home.

He bent down and knocked.

"Don't turn around," said Rebecca's voice. "Or we will fire."

"Rebecca," said Albus, glowing with relief. "It's me. Albus Severus Potter."

"Patronus. Nothing else."

Albus cast his coyote Patronus. "Anything more?"

"Why is the world reporting you dead?"

"Dead?" Albus grimaced. "I've been gone a while, I know…"

"And they found numerous pieces of you floating outside Azkaban where you were last spotted being assaulted by unknown assassins who performed devastating magic," said Rebecca. "So you were _gone for a while?_ Doing what? What have you done to yourself? You are surrounded by massive and unfamiliar power. Perhaps it's weak of me to have even left you alive this long, because every scrap of evidence says you are imitating Albus and here to kill anyone who's consorted with him."

"It's me, Rebecca," said Albus. "I just cast my Patronus. I've learned the Scent, and I've used it to find you here. Ask me anything."

"Who is beyond here?"

"Exo, Mia, and Cynthia," said Albus. "Unless Aidan, Alec, Teddy, Victoire, or Aethan disappeared up there since the last time I checked in."

"Why were chunks of you floating in the ocean?"

"I Splinched badly while Disapparating."

"Where were you since then?"

"The Pandoran Catalyst."

Rebecca, still behind him, gasped audibly.

"I found it," he said, unable to contain his excitement. "I found it, Rebecca, and I'm using it now. I have all of the power that Gallen Ingot had."

"Stay where you are."

Suddenly, there was a noise like a geyser, and he was enveloped in a thick cloud of some sort of gas—he held his breath, but the gas dissipated into the air in seconds.

"No Marionette's Medicine," said Rebecca.

Albus felt a sting like a hornet on his back. "Ow!"

"And probably no Imperius," said Rebecca. "Though just to be sure… _Imperio._"

Albus straightened up as the curse was cast on him, and then relaxed.

_Fight any other Imperius Curse you are under. Tell me everything that happened._

"I have already told you the truth," said Albus listlessly. "And I'm only under this Imperius Curse."

The curse was lifted immediately thereafter.

"Good God," said Rebecca, her voice cracking. "Albus, the Shadow people all think you're dead. They've been celebrating. Noticeably. Your father is driven by revenge; he's gearing up to fight them before Wilcox gets any more power. You may have obtained newfound abilities, but the situation is getting as bad as it can get."

"Rebecca," said Albus, turning around at last. "It's not just newfound abilities. It's more power than Wilcox could even imagine. I don't think I should show you until I need to… but you sense it. You already know what I can do."

Rebecca nodded. "The power that I had sensed in Herpo pales in comparison to what you have now."

"Is Dodecus here? I need you to send word to everyone for me."

"Come inside," said Rebecca, and she and Albus melted through the floor.

Dodecus was waiting when they landed on the floor, his fingers crossed. He nodded to Rebecca and to Albus.

"Should I prove my identity again?" asked Albus as he sat opposite Dodecus.

"No need," said Dodecus. "I have honed my intuition as sharp as can be and I trust my senses. You have been altered, no doubt… but I can see that it is you."

"Can you signal my friends?" asked Albus hopefully. "Do you have a way? I don't want them to go on thinking I'm dead any longer than they have to…"

"I will do that," said Dodecus. He flicked a finger against a red indicator on the counter that looked like the glowstick-shaped Reen that Teddy had used. When he flicked it, it flashed gold.

"I don't know how long it will take them to see it," said Dodecus, "but when they do, they will come."

Albus knew it would take longer without HERMAN or Alana with them. He sighed and tapped his foot, but stopped when he realized that the tapping of his foot was deeply indenting the floor.

Rebecca and Dodecus were staring at him.

"Rebecca," said Albus, his heart racing. "Can you go over Light magic with me again?"

Rebecca blinked.

"I can do it now," said Albus. "I know I can. I'm as strong as I could ever be. And I'll be able to use it now. I'm confident."

"I can hear that," said Rebecca. She nodded, and rose from her chair. "How better to spend the wait for your friends? We will begin immediately."

O

Lucy breathed in carefully. One more day. Tomorrow was January 30. The most pivotal day of her life thus far.

Grody's unmistakable clomping footsteps heralded his approach. It was an unusual time for him to be coming, but maybe he had to depart for a mission soon and was delivering the food now. He stopped in front of the prison cell, and Lucy's stomach growled; she hated that her body was becoming trained to respond to this cretin.

But as she looked up, she noticed he wasn't carrying a food tray. In fact, his empty hands were instead clenched into fists. He was putting on a fake smile, but she could tell something was wrong.

Was he suspecting her?

She sat still against the wall, forcing back her urge to tremble, as she waited for him to speak.

"Well," said Grody, "I'm rather infuriated, and I assume you will be entirely distraught by this news as well, but… tomorrow will _not_ be the day we consummate our Unbreakable Vow."

Lucy felt her body chilling with an ominous feeling about this. "Why not?" she asked, as neutrally as she could manage.

"The Man in the Shadows is insisting we have you moved," said Grody. "Today. He's insisting he's foreseen something crucially important and it requires that we relocate you immediately, for whatever reason. I didn't want to argue, partly because I haven't mentioned our little arrangement, but mostly because one does not disagree with the Man in the Shadows if one wants to continue in his employment and continue to breathe. I'm pissed, but I have to move you. And since I'll have to sedate and restrain you for the move, I don't know if there will be some loophole in that Unbreakable Vow that I'm not seeing, like since you won't have comfortable accommodations while I'm transporting you. I don't want that to have me accidentally break my end of the Vow and get me killed. So I'm going to have to hold off until we enter another solid month where I'm sure you're getting what you asked for. Lucky you… you've ensured one more month of fancy living before I go in on you."

Lucy didn't want to complain, because then Grody might suspect her, but there was something strange about the reasoning here. The Man in the Shadows _foresaw_… was Wilcox a Seer? Did he know what Lucy was planning to do tomorrow? Was that why he wanted her moved? Was he going to have her moved every time a month approached, because he would foresee it every time? How could he know so much?

She shook her head; she had to assume it was outside of her specifically. Maybe they needed the building for something else. How could Wilcox know something she had never said or hinted aloud at all?

Hopefully this wouldn't happen again next month… She was eager to put her plans into action. Until then, she had to play along. And at least she was guaranteed these moderately comfortable accommodations until then. She could only wait, and do what she could, whenever she could do it, and pray that it was something else that was causing Wilcox to insist that she be moved, not her own plans. But the coincidence that it was happening today, the day before her escape attempt, was very unsettling.

"I'm sure you're heartbroken," said Grody, "so I'll leave you to grieve, and I'll be back with a few friends in a few minutes, to move you to your new accommodations. And we'll restart the count when you're all settled down."

He walked away, and Lucy's head buzzed with unanswered questions, but she knew she couldn't answer them now, or probe with Grody lest she accidentally give away the game. She took deep breaths to calm herself, and waited. She had waited long enough. She could wait another month.

O

There was a knock on the ceiling; the three inside the little house looked up.

Rebecca nodded to Dodecus, who cast a spell at the ceiling; there were glimmers of light that spread out in four rings from four spots on the ceiling, and Rebecca Disapparated in response.

Albus held his breath. Four flashes of light. Alec, Aidan, Teddy, and Victoire?

And then all four of them melted through the floor with Rebecca.

Albus, knowing their identities and mental status had already been checked by Rebecca, leapt out of his chair and wrapped them all in one large hug. They were all shouting in surprise and delight, but he wasn't hearing the specific words; he was so overjoyed to see them again, all intact. Exo, Mia, and Cynthia he assumed were up on the moon… was anyone unaccounted for?

He broke away suddenly, his face draining of color.

"Where's Aethan?" he asked through a rapidly drying throat.

"Oh good," laughed Aidan, "it's definitely him."

"Aethan is on the Liner," said Victoire. "Imperiusing the crew. Searching for Wilcox's Horcruxes."

"Wilcox's Horcruxes!" yelped Albus. "Yes, I—"

"Hold up, Albus," said Alec. "We just found each other again. Are we really going to throw ourselves into the next mission already?!"

"Yes," said Albus. "Wilcox is going to sniff me out very quickly… we should all probably get moving as soon as possible."

"Wear the Cloak," suggested Aidan.

Albus shook his head. "The guardians of the Pandoran Catalyst told me it might not be powerful enough to hide me anymore."

Teddy cleared his throat. "The… the _who_ told you that?" His hair turned fiery red with excitement. "Albus… the _what?_"

"The Pandoran Catalyst," said Albus. He looked around. "Do you have a way of talking to Aethan? I need to tell him to start scanning in Mexico."

"We'll summon him," said Victoire. "We told him to come only to people who tap on the water eleven times instead of three, so that he can ignore most people who want to summon the Liner but will come for one of us if we call."

"Eleven was just one of the least likely numbers for someone to guess or tap by accident," noted Alec, raising a hand. "My idea."

"As we've told you every one of the at least eleven times you've reminded us of that," said Aidan, rolling his eyes, "yes, that was brilliant."

"And I think I know where the other Horcrux is, too," said Albus.

"We'll summon Aethan and tell him about both," said Teddy, bouncing up and down on his heels. "But Albus… did you say…"

"I'll get to that," said Albus with a grin. "But first, Aethan should start scanning in Mexico… but I think the other one is probably somewhere else. I'm going to guess it's in the Hourglass Empire. Wilcox had to move his Horcrux, and I think he would have wanted to put it somewhere that the Liner and other tracking devices couldn't sense."

"We'll check there, then," said Teddy. "Albus. _Did you say the Pandoran Catalyst?!_ Wilcox has been desperately searching for that—how did you find it?!"

"It surfaced when Pyron returned," said Albus. "Draxler Cordot enchanted it to lose its Illusiveil Devoctrix when Pyron came back, so that he could be destroyed. But it didn't go away again when Pyron left the world. I Disapparated from Azkaban to Egypt to try to get away from the Propheteers by hiding in the Empire, but instead of the Empire, the Hocus-Focuser led me to the Pandoran Catalyst."

"There were guardians of the Catalyst there?" asked Teddy. "And they let you use it?"

"They did," said Albus, "but that's a story for another day. Right now, let's get on the Liner to Egypt and tell Aethan what's going on. Dodecus—Rebecca—after you relocate yourselves to make sure Wilcox doesn't find you here because of me, can one of you stop in on the moon really quickly to let Exo and Mia and Cynthia know I'm back?"

Rebecca nodded. "Of course."

"Wait, Albus," said Victoire. "How are we going to take out the Horcrux if we find it? Are we sure the Squib sword can do the job?"

"No, that's not a certainty," said Albus. "But, thankfully, I do have a basilisk."

He gave a hiss, and Jedeza curled out of the inside of his robes, her tongue flicking the air. Dodecus and Aidan started; Victoire and Alec shrieked.

"Merlin's arse, Albus," laughed Teddy, his eyes wide with amazement. "Did you get any other immense and fantastic powers while you were gone?"

"No," said Albus, "but I picked up another one while I was waiting for you!"

He drew back his wand like pulling an arrow back in a bow, drawing power from his very soul, and released; an arrow of light seared through the room and burst on the opposite wall.

Aidan, Alec, Teddy, and Victoire had turned their heads to follow the arrow, and then they slowly turned around to gawk at Albus.

"Let's end this," said Albus, his eyes and heart ablaze.

O

Auchland held up a pair of gloves tentatively. "This," he said, unimpressed. "_This_ is what you wanted me to bring from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, imbecile," said Wilcox. "They're one of two reasons I ever decided to become Headmaster of Hogwarts in the first place."

He Summoned the gloves, wordlessly and wandlessly, and slipped them onto his hands.

"The first being Dismiusa," said Auchland with a nod. "But an old pair of Gellert Grindelwald's gloves that Dumbledore randomly kept in his office? Mind telling me what special power I assume they hold, in case I ever need to use them?"

"You won't," said Wilcox. "Now leave. Don't you have a school to run?"

Auchland grumbled and Disapparated.

Wilcox turned his hands around, staring at the gloves. Grindelwald… What an ineffectual figure. Finding an artifact that increased the power of the Elder Wand he carried, without ever realizing that it was a Catalyst that could have increased his power tenfold if he'd learned how to use it. And Dumbledore… What a sentimental fool. Keeping something so dangerous in his office, without ever realizing exactly the capabilities it possessed. Dumbledore may have hidden it in plain sight amongst all the other varyingly useful objects in the Headmaster's office, but he could not conceal its Scent.

He Disapparated to a stark cave on a Mongolian mountainside, and waited patiently.

A few minutes passed, and then he sensed the incoming Apparition.

He lifted his wand. "_Avada Kedavra._"

There was an intense flash that set the walls of the cave ablaze with green light, and then the flash faded. He looked down at the corpse to see his own face staring back at him; several more quick spells liquefied his clone and dissolved the body into the rocks below.

"Sincerest apologies," he muttered aloud, "but I cannot clone again until there is only one of me left alive, and three is better than two."

He slowly started the motions for the Splismetic Devoctrix, and the gloves on his hands began to shine brilliantly. The pain came, just as it did the last time, and he roared in agony, not bothering to contain his shouts in the deserted landscape he'd selected. As his body was ripped into three, each slowly reforming into the whole, the gloves dropped into the middle of the triangle that his three bodies formed. The gloves were almost entirely translucent now, and he knew he wouldn't be able to cast another Devoctrix with that Catalyst until the gloves faded fully back into their original color.

Each of his thirds stood up slowly as the rest of his body generated around them, like the growing of crystals. Everything magical in his possession was in the center of their triangle, and everything nonmagical had been cloned with him. Each of the three Wilcoxes stared into the center, the obvious question percolating back into each of their minds considering what had just happened before the cloning.

Were any of them the _true_ Helio Wilcox? And if so, which one?

Should one of them fall, and should he need to clone himself again… which of them had the right to kill the third?

O

_Egypt is coming up,_ said Aethan to everyone onboard the Liner through the Connectivity Charm. _We'll surface outside the Sandover Hotel. And after I drop you off I'll head straight under Mexico to start scanning there._

Albus just smiled softly, turning his Devil's Snare wand over in his grip. He still wished he had been able to recover his ebony and phoenix feather wand from the Propheteers, but he was glad enough that he still had this one, since he had left it with Teddy when he was unable to bring it into Azkaban.

The Liner jolted out of Digher Straits, and Jedeza gave a soft hiss from inside Albus's bag.

"You have the Hocus-Focuser ready?" asked Aidan.

Albus shook his head. "It would just point to me," said Albus. "But don't worry. I'll take us all there. I'll be able to sense the pillar by echolocation."

Teddy shook his head and laughed.

"You've been in an extremely good mood," said Albus, looking to Teddy. He wasn't thinking Teddy was brainwashed or anything… It just seemed like Teddy was laughing and smiling more since they had been reunited again.

"Albus, you're my godbrother," said Teddy. "If that's a thing, I mean. And I… I thought you were gone." He took a deep breath as they felt the Liner begin to rise. "Wilcox's forces were celebrating. I thought that I would never see you again. I'm just so happy that you're okay. And not just okay—you're going to win this. If I sound happier than usual, it's because you sound so much more confident than I've ever heard you about anything."

Albus nodded. "I'm going to finish this with the power Wilcox craved the most."

"Let's not get cocky," said Victoire, "but measured confidence will definitely help."

The Liner was lifted from the water, floating to a stop in the large fountain in front of the hotel in which Albus had stayed in his fifth year. Knowing that time was precious and any time the Liner was stopped was time that the Liner could be attacked and retaken, they surged out of the cabins and mounted their brooms on the deck, launching out into the air. Albus, however, lifted himself up with a gust of wind, and then soared into the air on the jet of Siobor's spell from his silver lime wand.

He was already catching the Scent of the pillar that led to the Hourglass Empire. It was coming from all directions, since the pillar tended to move around the desert, but they might not even need the Scent—they simply had to wander the desert, and since at least one of their number had been to the Hourglass Empire before, it should come to _them._

They had traveled only for about a half hour before Albus could smell the pillar very close by. He hailed them and altered his flight path, and everyone turned to follow; in seconds, the pillar came into view.

"_Bloodblade!_" said Albus, summoning the knife back into his hand and reopening the cut on his fingertip. As everyone crowded above Albus, he squeezed out a drop of blood that splashed onto the pillar.

They were sucked under the sand; Teddy and Victoire seemed nervous, but the other three had been here before. They were deposited gently down onto the landing platform above the Hourglass Empire.

"No time to gawk," said Albus to Teddy and Victoire. "Come on!"

"HELLO, UP THERE!" came Hiram's call.

Albus leaned over the cliff. "Hiram!" he called down, and Hiram jolted, not used to being addressed by name by anyone entering the Empire.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" laughed Hiram up to them. "But good to see that you're still around! Some of the people here more recently have said you've been reported—"

"Dead, I know," said Albus. "Well, I'm alive, but I'm looking for some people who aren't."

Hiram tilted his head.

"Could you direct us to the Empire's graveyard?" he asked tentatively.

Hiram frowned. "You'll have to get judged again by Cordot," he said, "that's just policy. But after that, of course. I would be most pleased to take you anywhere you feel you're needed!"

Albus nodded. "We'll fly down."

Hiram leapt like a grasshopper down from the rocks of the cliff, and Albus and company lifted off towards Cordot's statue. Albus led the way, having done this twice before, and having gotten better at directing the flight spell he'd learned from Siobor. He landed softly in front of the statue, and Cordot's iron statue leaned back in surprise when it saw him.

"I found something," said Albus.

The statue nodded. It placed its hands around all five of them, and then leaned back and nodded again. There was another creak as the corner of the statue's mouth turned up in a smirk.

"I don't suppose I get to know what the Kill Switch does yet," asked Albus.

Cordot's statue shook his head no, but kept smirking.

"Do _you_ even know what it does?"

Cordot shook his head no.

"Well," said Alec, "at least he's not just being a dick about it."

"Do you know who _does_ know what the Kill Switch does?" asked Aidan.

Another no.

"You died," said Albus. "But no one even knew you were alive until you died."

Cordot's statue shrugged.

"Pyron is gone, and can never return," said Albus. "But there's still the problem of the other guy up there doing evil. Wilcox. You arranged for the death of one of his clones. But he may clone himself again. Do you know any way to stop this?"

Cordot drew a finger across his throat and shrugged.

"Well, killing all of the clones is the obvious solution," said Teddy. "But is there a way to stop him from being able to clone himself, or to kill all clones and leave just the original Wilcox left?"

"And is there a way," asked Victoire, "to make sure no evil person can ever again do anything like Wilcox has done?"

Cordot leaned down and dug his finger into the dirt, writing out a message. Just like last time, he only wrote three words: _The Kill Switch._

Albus and his friends looked at each other again. Cordot straightened back up and closed his eyes.

"I can take you to the graveyards whenever," said Hiram, stepping forward once Cordot seemed to be done with the conversation. "Mind that there are graveyards in every district, so you may be hard-pressed to find what you're looking for if you're looking for something exact…"

"I'll be able to smell it," said Albus.

Hiram wrinkled his nose. "I certainly _hope_ not," he said. "We try to bury them far enough that it's not an issue…"

"Never mind," said Albus. "Just take us around."

But as he traversed the Empire, he realized that the overpowering smell of this Paracosmic universe created by the immensely powerful Pandoran Catalyst was going to obscure any scent of any Devoctrix. This, however, was more of a positive than a negative… He felt certain that this was the place Wilcox would have hid his Horcrux. It would make Scents… he would hide it somewhere that it couldn't be sniffed out.

"Any particular district's graveyard you wanted to visit first?" asked Hiram.

"Take us to the Magichristian District first," said Albus, recalling one of the names from his previous trip, and recalling that Wilcox's father was a member of the Darkriver Trinity Church, an extremist Christian sect.

"That's a good guess," said Teddy, and Hiram gestured them onward. Teddy took Victoire onto his broom, and Hiram mounted Victoire's broom.

As they flew through the air, several police officers mounted brooms and soared in their direction, lining themselves up to fly parallel with Hiram. "These kids with you?"

"They are," said Hiram. "Sorry for the unregistered brooms, but they're in a bit of a hurry. No need to bother Poticand with this."

Albus silently thanked Hiram a thousand times over.

"Something tells me she'll want to be bothered with this," said one of the officers, eyeing Albus specifically.

"Then bother her after we're wrapped up," said Hiram. "I gather this is world-saving stuff they're down here to do, so they shouldn't be interrupted. I'll let her know what's up when they're done."

The police gave curt nods and broke away from the group. Hiram led them to a clearing just in front of a small cemetery behind a church in the Magichristian District, and they landed and walked through the gates and among the graves.

"He wouldn't have put her actual name on the tombstone," said Aidan. "So how do we know if she's here?"

Albus's senses twitched. There was something here… He wouldn't have been able to sense it anywhere else in the Empire, but like picking the scent of an ingredient out of a meal, he could clearly sense there was another relic of the Devoctrices somewhere very close. Underground… buried. In one of these graves.

"It's here," he said. "We'll unearth every body if we have to."

"What's here?" asked Hiram, grimacing. "Have you need of one of these corpses? I don't think they'll make very pleasant conversation partners."

Albus lifted his hands.

The entirety of the graveyard down to a depth of about fifteen feet was lifted out of the ground, except for the stone path they were standing on. All of the dirt rose high above their heads, with the coffins stuck inside, and then Albus lowered his arms again, and the dirt rained down, leaving only the coffins hovering in the air, until the last bit of dirt filled in the holes and the unsupported coffins crashed back to the ground.

"We'll get every skull if we can't figure out which one," said Albus, coaxing Jedeza from his pack with Parseltongue as Hiram stared at him in disbelief.

Albus stepped forward, but stopped as a loud _crack_ reverberated through the cemetery.

Suddenly, there was a chorus of dozens more crackling sounds, as fists and legs punched through the coffins. Corpses of varying freshness were ripping apart their wooden confines and climbing out onto the upturned dirt, then locking in on Albus and charging at him, snarling and dripping flesh and bone behind them.

Albus didn't know what kind of undead creatures they were, but he knew most of them were deathly allergic to being incinerated; he kept his cool and leveled his arms. He blasted out the most powerful wave of fire he'd ever produced, which turned everything it passed into ashes; the fire billowed throughout the cemetery, burning every corpse to a crisp, leaving only blackened bones.

Only one corpse was left; this one was just a skeleton even before the fire had passed over it. The inferno had wounded it, but not finished the job. It shambled towards them, clacking its teeth together menacingly, but it was nowhere near as frightening when it was all alone.

Albus hissed the attack command to Jedeza, who shook off her blindfold. "Look away!" yelled Albus as Jedeza leveled her stare at the skeleton, paralyzing it, and then leapt forward and sank her teeth into its skull.

There was a bone-rattling howl, and then the skeleton dissolved at last. Jedeza nuzzled her head on Albus's robes; Albus kept his eyes closed as he summoned the blindfold and adjusted it back over Jedeza's eyes.

"Wow," said Alec, looking around the ash-covered graveyard. "We've had some ridiculous luck, but I don't think _anything_ we've ever done has gone _that_ smoothly."

Albus grinned ear-to-ear, and pumped a fist. "Let's get some cats," he said. "I think it's high time we get back to the surface… and get Lucy out of her hellhole. Once she's safe, Wilcox will have no bargaining chip with me and my family anymore. And then it's time to pay him back for everything he's done."

O

Desulgon nodded slowly.

"Sorry if I went a little fast," said Mia. "But that's the main stories of what's been happening since then."

"Nobody's found Albus?" asked Desulgon.

"Not yet," said Exo. "But we're confident that they will eventually."

Desulgon glanced over at Cynthia. She flushed violently red and turned her face away. He started to blush a little bit, too.

"Can _you_ find him, do you think?" asked Mia. "You knew everything about everyone! Except the most important thing, of course. You kind of dropped the ball on that one."

Desulgon sighed. "Well… I'm not used to this body yet. I don't have nearly the access that I used to have to my Devoctrical power, since this body doesn't carry all the power that my old body did… I'm going to have to get used to trying out my power again. So I'll have to cast a few Devoctrices that I had before, but Catalysts can only do so much for so long… I'll have to wait for the moon's catalyzing power to recharge after each time I use a Devoctrix, and I've got quite a few I'll need to re-cast on myself. It will take a while before I'm fully fit to fight things and find things again."

"But can you cast the first few now so you can find Albus as soon as possible?" asked Exo impatiently.

"I understand your hurry," said Desulgon. "Sure. The first ones I cast will be whatever I can use to find and help Albus. Especially considering that Unbreakable Vow I made to Teddy." His eyes drifted upwards. "Although… does that hold if I'm in a new body? I'd lean towards no, but I'd also lean towards not finding out…" He sighed. "But if Albus is being held captive, or if there's some urgent situation where Wilcox needs to be faced immediately, I'll need to be an agile duelist again. I don't know which Devoctrices are more important for me to cast right now."

There was a soft sound as someone touched down in the landing area of the base—someone had taken the portal up. Rebecca Pinzel stretched her old bones out and looked around. Seeing Exo, Mia, and Cynthia, she waved… then her eyes widened as she noted the fourth person.

Rebecca fired off the first spell, not waiting for introductions. Desulgon slashed through it just with his hand; in the same motion, he extracted a wand as he spun in a circle and fired out a nonverbal _Calcify,_ and spun another time while extracting a second wand and casting protective enchantments around his position.

Rebecca fired an arrow made of light, and it passed straight through Desulgon's barrier; he was already dodging it anyway just in case, and it sailed by him. With four quick punches of Desulgon's wand, the floor under Rebecca was spinning in four different directions at random, and she leapt into the air but was spun into the wall by a massive gust of wind. Rebecca cast tendrils of flame that whipped wildly about in the air, smashing into Desulgon's barriers and hiding her position; Desulgon slashed both wands in opposite directions, and the flames froze into ice, which quickly shattered in all directions. The shards of ice then began systematically firing into the ground in a sweeping motion across the floor, looking for the invisible Rebecca—

There was a barely visible motion, and then two arrows of light cut through the air; Desulgon dodged the first but was struck by the second.

It did not seem to affect him in any way.

Desulgon took it in stride and fired off a spell that turned all of the remaining ice shards hovering in the air into leather straps, which snapped towards Rebecca's position; it was so rapid that the straps slammed her into the floor, securing her there, and the ground heaved up under her hand to send her wand flying out of her grip. Rebecca faded back into view, struggling against her confines.

Desulgon stood over her with his wand aimed at her heart, taking heaving breaths with wild eyes. He looked back at the others to gauge whether this was a friend or a foe.

"Well," said Mia. "I think your dueling is still pretty intact…"

O

"Right here," said Teddy, gesturing down. "The facility is right under us now." He nodded to Albus. "Good luck."

"This time, for once," said Albus with a grin, "I won't need it."

The ground opened up under him, and he dropped down as Teddy mounted his broom to head back to the others.

He tunneled down until he landed on a thick metal tube of some sort. He sensed it was probably magic-repellant… But he wasn't using magic, he was catalyzing a Devoctrix.

He thrust his hand down; as he did so, a layer of dirt and small rocks coated his hand, and he plunged his hand through the metal like it was liquid. He ripped a large chunk right out of the ceiling of the tube, and jumped inside.

He charged through the hall; a guard around the corner pulled out his wand, but Albus brought down a pillar of rock like a giant's fist that punched through the ceiling and slammed into the guard, knocking him unconscious. Albus rode a gust of fierce wind through the halls, and then sensed water running in the pipes along the wall; he pulled his arm behind him and the water burst from the pipes, rushing out in front of him and swamping a team of guards who came out to meet him.

Albus injected his mind into one of the disoriented guards, as confident as ever in his abilities, and read the guard's thoughts; he saw the guard's panic. Albus tuned his focus, and he was able to understand exactly what the guard feared: that Albus would turn left, go straight, and turn right twice, and end up at Lucy's prison cell.

Albus did exactly this, easily overpowering every guard he encountered with a quick burst of rock from underneath, a crashing wave, or a gust of fierce wind; he didn't even need his wand. He sped through the halls, until he slid to a stop in front of Lucy's prison cell. He looked inside to see Lucy chained to the wall, looking up fearfully at him.

"It's me," said Albus, and he ripped two of the bars off of the prison cell simply by force, tossing them aside. He stepped inside and crushed Lucy's chains with his bare hands, wrenching off her shackles. Lucy still seemed in disbelief. "It's me!" Albus repeated. "It's not a trick. I'm here."

He hugged Lucy tightly, and she finally broke a smile and hugged him back.

And then he felt a wand stick into the back of his neck, and he was promptly Stunned.

He dropped to the ground, and one after another, Lucy fired ten or twelve Stunners into his chest. He felt his ribs fracture, and she enchanted the shackles to strap him to the floor of the prison cell. She cracked another smile.

"Actually," she said smoothly, "it _is_ a trick."

Lucy's skin started to bubble, and she gained height and size, her hair shrinking back, her smile turning into a grin of pure evil.

Wilcox.

"Before you find some way to weasel out of your physical binds," said Wilcox, drawing a great bubble of potion from within his robes, "allow me to add some mental ones."

Albus could do nothing as the Marionette's Medicine poured down his throat, and he felt like his brain was being reprogrammed. He gasped for air when it was done, and then he stood up obediently.

"Are you Albus Potter?"

"I am Albus Severus Potter, biological son of Harry Potter and Ginevra Potter," said Albus. His true mind was watching as if it were a movie he was seeing directly through his own eyes; he screamed and tried to fight it, but he could do nothing against the power of the potion that had seized him. "You have conquered the correct mind."

"Excellent," said Wilcox. He placed a hand on Albus's shoulder, and Apparated into the Mongolian mountain cave, where no one would disturb them. "Now, tell me." He rubbed his hands together and curled his lip up in a smirk. "Where is Dalton Desulgon's research base… and where is the Pandoran Catalyst?"


	26. Severing the Strings

_**Someone came incredibly close to guessing this chapter title, I was very impressed; a guest reviewer offered "cutting the strings", so it was only a synonym away.**_

_**Only five chapters to go after this one. Can't believe it's coming to a close after four years!**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

SEVERING THE STRINGS

O

Albus Potter leaned down and knocked on the ground, then waited.

He sensed Rebecca appear behind him. "Albus," she said breathily. "Don't turn around. Have you rescued your cousin?"

"Yes," said Albus. "She's safe! It's time for us to take back the world."

"Thank God," said Rebecca. "Thank God… and there's something incredible that I have to tell you as well…"

He knew Rebecca was going to check for magical concealment, and he quickly reacted, Disapparating and reappearing right behind her to send a Stunner into her neck. Rebecca was a remarkably agile duelist despite her old age, and was able to anticipate where he had reappeared, but she could not sustain the duel while he barraged her from all sides, and she fell, body-bound. Quickly, he administered the Marionette's Medicine to her as well, and Rebecca descended into her house to make swift work of incapacitating Dodecus.

Wilcox joined them in their house, maintaining his Albus Potter disguise; he would need it on his trip to the moon to kill his son and the others who were up there. Dodecus obediently handed him the portal, and they all stared into it until they had been transported into the moon.

"Albus!" said Exo brightly, walking over; he paused, confused. "Rebecca? Dodecus? Who's guarding the portal?"

"Teddy," said Rebecca, immediately knowing that Wilcox was in need of a cover story, and covering for him. "We've left him in charge while we take a look at Desulgon to see how he's holding up in his new body."

Wilcox's eyes shot open, and it took all of his concentration not to completely lose his mind. _What_ did she just say? While we take a look at—_Desulgon?_

Then, from out of nowhere, a door slammed open, and a black-haired stranger charged out, wand at the ready; he was already casting spells.

Wilcox, Dodecus, and Rebecca set to the task, all furiously dueling against the newcomer. Exo screamed and ran for cover. Mia opened a door nearby to see what was happening; upon seeing the situation, she kept the door open only long enough for Exo to charge in, and then she slammed the door.

"You're—on—_my_—turf!" roared the stranger, accentuating each syllable with a supremely powerful spell, and suddenly he cast one downwards and the tiles on the floor lifted up, bucking and tossing their occupants; Wilcox Disapparated onto a nearby wall and clung there like a spider, but was jettisoned off after he was painfully electrocuted. The stranger beat spell after practiced spell into Dodecus, dropping him first as the weakest duelist; as Wilcox recovered his muscles from the electrocution, the stranger took care of Rebecca surprisingly swiftly as well. Then it was a duel between only the two of them.

The stranger was a ferocious duelist—the likes of which he'd only seen once—this _couldn't_ be—and then there were strange spells, swarms of insects, sudden tilts in gravity, massive red disembodied hands pummeling him from all sides. These were Hourglass Empire spells, how could anyone on the surface be so adept at casting them, unless he really was dealing with…

On and on, back and forth, the duel rocked the glass-domed room. If anyone else had been there to see, they may have recalled it as the most extreme wizarding duel that ever came to pass. Its two participants, of course, were not interested in any comparisons of how intensely their flashes and bangs shone and thundered; they were only interested in taking out their greatest opponent. The four wands stabbed and slashed, sending spell after spell with ferocity unseen even on the entire planet they were orbiting. Silently, unseen by his opponent, one of them turned aside and whispered a word into his robes: "_Entrain!_"

A thousand daggers aimed into one wizard's heart became a thousand pellets of boiling oil streaking for the other wizard's face; a dark pulse of energy snapped back in the direction from which it had come, igniting into Frostflame; a tidal wave of sound so loud as to shatter bone was redirected into the wall, where the glass dome absorbed the contact. The facility was designed to protect those within its borders—even when those within its borders were trying to kill each other—so as to preserve the precious information held within the many rooms; the spells did nothing to break it, unless one of the participants knew the single spell it was designed not to withstand…

"_End!_" shouted the black-haired stranger, and suddenly the glass dome all around them shattered.

An alarm sounded as the wind, racing outwards, ripped Wilcox out onto the lunar surface, and he gasped for air that wasn't there. The stranger had already cast a bubble around his whole body, but the half-second that required Wilcox to cast a spell to save himself was a half-second that he could not afford in a duel against his greatest rival; as the Stunning spell struck him square in the chest, and he keeled over onto the moon's dusty surface with no bodily protection, he knew that he could only have lost the duel to Dalton Desulgon himself.

The door flew open as Mia came out with her wand at the ready, trying to figure out what the alarm was about and wanting to assist Desulgon; but the air rushed out of that room, too, and her eyes started to bulge as she struggled to stay standing to cast a spell of some sort to save herself.

Looking between the groups, Desulgon made the obvious choice to conserve the lives of the people who deserved to be saved, and he cast out four ropes from his wands which wrapped around the ankles of Dodecus and Rebecca and the wrists of Mia and Exo. He threw them all at the opposite wall, casting an enchantment to allow them to pass directly through that wall; they all landed in a room that still held air, where a distraught Cynthia began to demand an explanation as to what was happening outside the room.

Desulgon turned to Wilcox, but the fifteen-second exposure to the conditions of the moon had already left Wilcox unconscious, and he wasn't about to make a fuss trying to save the man, especially in case there were more of his troops incoming.

"Come," he said, phasing through the same wall. "There may be a second wave incoming if Wilcox takes too long to come back. We'll have to take the portal back, but get ready to fight if there's anyone on the other end."

He watched them all cast Bubble-Head Charms, and Mia instructed them on how to spread the charm over their entire bodies. Desulgon cast the Imperius Curse over Dodecus and Rebecca, to allow them to move without worrying that they were still under the Marionette's Medicine. As they ran back through the wall and towards the portal, Desulgon looked over at Wilcox, who was still motionless from the Stun but not _quite_ dead yet… Should he…

Exo ran close enough to Desulgon's bubble to combine their bubbles, so that Desulgon could hear him speak.

"Leave him," said Exo coolly, and then separated their bubbles again to continue his sprint towards the return portal.

Desulgon did indeed leave Wilcox, but quickly breached his mind before departing completely; he read into Wilcox's thoughts, which were too panicked to repel Desulgon's invasion, and he took quick note that one of Wilcox's clones had placed Albus Potter under the Marionette's Medicine; this realization came just before Wilcox's thoughts darkened and disappeared completely, and as Desulgon was squeezed back out of the mind, he cast a human-presence-revealing spell to be sure: yes, this Wilcox was dead. He grimaced and bolted to the portal so that they could all return to the surface together. They were dissolved by the laser, and reconstructed inside Dodecus's and Rebecca's dwelling… A quick scan told him that no one else was here.

"If Wilcox knows where my base is now," said Desulgon, "there's no recourse for that place. I'm going to have to head back soon and blow it up."

"Not the whole moon?!" asked Mia with genuine concern.

"No, not the whole moon," said Desulgon. "Just the base."

"But…" Exo's shoulders slumped. "All that knowledge…"

"It's all in here," said Desulgon, tapping his head. "I made sure of that, in life and in reproducing my mind. Honestly, I hadn't even finished writing everything down yet."

Cynthia placed a hand on Desulgon's shoulder. "Is that one less Wilcox to worry about?"

"From what I gathered from his mind, there are two more," said Desulgon, "but yes, up until about thirty seconds ago there were three. One less to worry about."

"And we won't stop until there's _nothing_ to worry about," said Exo.

"He was Polyjuiced as Albus," said Mia, the implication reaching her as she paled. "Does that mean…"

"He's got Albus," said Desulgon, shaking his head. "Fuck! This can't be…"

"He'll try to use him again," said Cynthia. "He's probably got to keep Albus alive… We need to warn Harry and everyone else not to trust Albus immediately if they see him."

"He'll use Albus to get the power of the Pandoran Catalyst," said Desulgon, remembering what Rebecca had told him on her last trip up. "But if the Catalyst has to recharge for a couple of months… he might have bound and hidden Albus somewhere for the next few months until he's sure he can use the Catalyst again. Did Albus tell anyone where to find the Catalyst?"

He lifted the Imperius Curses off of Rebecca and Dodecus, knowing that Wilcox's death had freed them from the effects of the Marionette's Medicine.

"No," said Rebecca. "He said that he was the only one who could find it, and he didn't want to lead Wilcox to it, so he couldn't show anyone. He wasn't planning on taking anyone there until the Catalyst was recharged from his use of it, so that someone else in the resistance could use the Catalyst. He said that the guardians of the Catalyst told him it could be up to two months of waiting before it was ready to use again."

"Then Wilcox probably has to keep Albus alive for two more months," said Desulgon. "He wouldn't take Albus to the Catalyst before then—he'd risk alerting the guards of the Catalyst about his plans before the Catalyst was charged enough to be used, and they might be able to prepare a defense before he comes back. So he'll keep Albus alive until he's sure the Catalyst is ready to use again… he'll wait the whole two months, what's he have to hurry about if he's finally captured Albus?"

"So," said Dodecus, "two months is how long we've got to find Albus before Wilcox is possibly done with him and disposes of him?"

Mia cracked her knuckles. "We'd better start now."

O

Teddy leaned over to the water, and tapped eleven times on the surface to summon Aethan and the Liner.

"And it's definitely a Horcrux?" asked Aidan optimistically.

"We think it has to be," said Teddy. "Aethan says there's little else it could be, considering the size compared to the power, and the fact that it's inside a Mexican pyramid means it matches Albus's description exactly. So if it's a glass goblet like we hope it is, there'll be no question it's Wilcox's Horcrux."

Alec peered off into the distance. "And if _that's_ what I hope it is," he said, "we're about to get some backup!"

The cloud of emotion poured into Alec's body, and they could see six brooms closing in on them rapidly, just as the Liner crested and broke the surface in front of them.

"Six brooms?" asked Aidan. "Even if Dodecus and Rebecca joined Exo, Mia, and Cynthia… that would only be five. Who's the sixth?"

Mia's raven Patronus and Exo's butterfly Patronus preceded them. The brooms pulled up, and indeed they and Cynthia were accompanied by Dodecus and Rebecca, but the sixth person with them was unfamiliar.

"Who's this?" asked Victoire, looking at the sixth person, glancing around to see if anyone recognized him.

"Well," said the man, clearing his throat, "it's a long story, and I should probably preface—"

"It's Desulgon," said Mia excitedly.

Exo slapped a palm to his face again.

"WHAT?!" blurted Aidan, Alec, Teddy, and Victoire together.

Desulgon grinned sheepishly. "In person," he said. "I think."

"Did he… Did he clone himself?" asked Alec, eyes wide.

"No," said Desulgon. "I mapped my brain, and inserted a copy of it into a body that I built from scratch. That's the short version, anyway."

"Glad you found us," said Aidan, "but who's guarding the lunar portal?"

"No one," said Rebecca. "Dalton will be making preparations to destroy the lunar base. Wilcox found us there."

"Shit," said Teddy. "Did you recover everything you needed?"

"I packed a few important items in anticipation of such an event," said Desulgon. "So, yes—I have some things that will be useful."

"We're glad you love-tracked us, then," said Victoire. "We could use some help here. We're about to go to Mexico and take out Wilcox's last Horcrux."

"By the way, that is an absurdly effective method of locating someone," said Desulgon. "I realize this was probably already tried, but would searching for Albus work using Janelle?"

"We've tried," said Aidan. "But they only really saw each other a handful of days over several years. Maybe it will be true love eventually, but if their relationship could get there, it hadn't had the time to develop all the way yet."

Desulgon nodded.

"Hey! Hurry up, would you? Any moment this ship is surfaced is a moment it's vulnerable!"

They looked over to the Liner; the shout had come from one of the crew of the Liner still Imperiused by Aethan, since Aethan couldn't do the shouting himself.

"Wait," said Desulgon as they began to move. "Everyone else can go, but, Alec. I need your help with something."

Alec began walking towards the Liner.

"Alec?" called Desulgon. "Did you hear me?"

Alec turned. "Hold up a second," he said, confused. "You _did_ say 'Alec'? That wasn't just me mishearing you?"

Desulgon laughed. "Yes. Alec. I need your help. Could you come with me instead? Everyone else is going to Mexico, it seems, but I was hoping you could give me some assistance in an important operation I'm trying to complete."

Alec shook his head. "Are you sure you didn't mean Aidan?"

"He's sure," said Aidan, patting Alec on the back. "Go with Desulgon, okay? We'll take care of the Horcrux."

Alec nodded, but he looked extremely nervous.

"No need to worry," said Desulgon, clapping a hand on Alec's shoulder. "I know you can do this. In fact, this idea I'm trying to set in motion… I got the idea from you!"

Alec beamed with pride as Desulgon tightened his grip and Disapparated with Alec in tow.

As they jumped aboard the Liner and walked into the cabins, Rebecca exercised her arm for the motions of _Ahoulagata,_ one of her massively powerful specialty spells, which could pull a tidal wave from a nearby body of water and crash where she directed it. Their plan was to fill the pyramid with a low level of water; they'd be chased by guards if they went in the front, and there were many booby traps and curses set around the entrances to the pyramids, but if they filled the pyramids with some water, they could drive the Liner right into the pyramid and surface in the interior, right where Wilcox's Horcrux would be stashed. Aidan checked inside his pack to see Jedeza there, waiting patiently with her blindfold on for the moment she was needed to take out the Horcrux.

Aidan took a cabin with Exo, Mia, and Cynthia. Mia handed something to Cynthia—some sort of potion—and Cynthia downed the potion immediately. The potion turned out to be _Inevertre,_ the potion that made love come out of the body; the potion their group used when they were using love-tracking.

"Why are you doing that with Cynthia?" asked Aidan. "Did Desulgon not tell you where he was going with Alec?"

"No, he told us," said Exo as the love began to pour outside of Cynthia's body. "We're just testing something out…"

"We still don't know if that's actually technically Desulgon in that body," said Mia. "There's one way at least to find out for sure…"

"_Stolidify,_" said Cynthia, directing her wand at her own head.

The cloud of emotion did not move. It hovered close to Cynthia. Even as they descended with the Liner, the emotion stayed right next to her head the whole time. It made no attempt to jet off to find Desulgon.

Aidan stared into the cloud. He was so soothed by its presence, but still he felt a bit of dread creeping into him. Did that mean that Desulgon hadn't truly succeeded in reconstructing his essence into that body? Despite a fully human form, and a fully human mind… something was lacking.

The soul?

Was there any way Desulgon could have replicated _that_ into his body?

"Should we tell him?" asked Aidan.

Cynthia stared blankly up into the cloud. "Maybe after the war," she said impassively.

Exo thrust a finger into Mia's chest. "Don't you _dare,_" he warned.

O

Albus breathed slowly. He could not see, hear, or feel anything except himself; he was trapped, floating in a void without gravity, a prison Wilcox had created with the Paracosmic Devoctrix to prevent anyone from being able to sense Albus from the outside world, just like Wilcox couldn't sense Albus in the Empire unless he was there with Albus. And in this house-sized universe, Albus was the sole inhabitant.

Entire weeks had already passed by, he knew, from the times he ate and slept. And he knew why Wilcox was keeping him alive, too: his brain informed him of Wilcox's plans, but he couldn't control any of his own actions to stop those plans or even delay them in the slightest. Albus had told Wilcox everything—he'd probably already killed Dodecus and Rebecca and everyone in the lunar base and was learning all of Desulgon's deepest secrets to become even more powerful—and Wilcox was now waiting until the Catalyst was definitely able to be recharged, so that he wouldn't have to risk Nelson and Ingot making preparations for his arrival if Wilcox stopped by too early before the Catalyst was done replenishing its power. How could he have been so stupid and careless? But then again, how had Wilcox known to impersonate Lucy exactly at that precise moment? It was almost as if Wilcox had been able to predict when he was going to try and rescue Lucy, but Albus had only just achieved the power of the Superstorm—how could Wilcox have known what Albus had just done and what his next act was?

Right now, the potion informed his mind, Wilcox was waiting until the first dose of Marionette's Medicine wore off, so that Wilcox could restrain Albus just in time for it to wear off so that he could administer the second dose without Albus retaliating in that window of freedom. Wilcox's internal commands reached Albus's mind even while isolated in this small Paracosmic world, and so Albus knew exactly what was going to happen in an hour: Wilcox was going to arrive to begin that process.

But despite Albus now knowing every single piece of Wilcox's plans because of the mental commands from the Marionette's Medicine, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Wilcox would restrain Albus while he was still under mind control, and he would make sure the bonds held under any circumstance. Then he would administer the second potion, and Albus would be his slave for another entire month. After two months, they were going to go to the Catalyst and Albus would give his enemy the greatest power the world had ever seen. Meanwhile, Wilcox had forced Albus to release the power of the Superstorm Devoctrix… so even if Albus did manage to break out of Wilcox's hold eventually, he no longer had the power, and Wilcox would again be able to crush them all if he ever found them… and with the moon base compromised, he'd have nowhere to hide.

He could not scream, he could not flail, he could not cry. He had to wait, alone for weeks already and weeks to come, with the knowledge that he had destroyed the world.

An hour passed, and as his mind knew fully well, Wilcox was here to fasten new strings on his favorite puppet. Albus tried as hard as he could to break free, but he knew nothing could break Wilcox's hold.

The entryway to the Paracosmic world opened, and Wilcox floated into the prison with him, carrying two sets of handcuffs, assumedly magic-proof; he fastened them around Albus's wrists and ankles, and dragged Albus back out of the void. They passed through a curtain at the edge of a stone tunnel that Wilcox had turned into a Paracosmic prison, and Wilcox threw Albus down on the stones. The rock crept up his body, slowly encasing him, solidifying stronger and stronger with every spell Wilcox cast. Finally, Wilcox took out an orb that Albus had seen before—the Sandbloods' patented Spellsplitter, which prevented any magic from being used in the area for a long time after it was used—and he smashed it on the floor.

An aura radiated out from the smashed sphere, and Albus felt his magic go out. Wilcox took out another vial of Marionette's Medicine, slid a narrow tube through Albus's obedient lips and straight down his throat into his stomach, and waited patiently.

Finally, the first dose of Marionette's Medicine wore off, and Albus knew the timing since he was receiving all relevant information from Wilcox's mind; he struggled and twitched his body around, but the rock was holding him tightly and he had no magic. Desulgon could cast Devoctrices with just his mind—Albus furiously envisioned his hands casting the Spirit Guard Devoctrix again, to help him out of this mess, he didn't care if he got the Contagion again or even went insane, he just couldn't be here—

Wilcox grasped the funnel at the end of the long tube that was positioned in Albus's stomach, and he poured the Marionette's Medicine into the tube. It was so much potion; Albus tried to force himself to throw it up before it had any effect; he retched and wrenched his jaw in different directions, but it wasn't working, so he tried to bite through the tube—

And he was back into the iron grip of the MM. He whimpered inwardly, but his obedient body stopped struggling.

"Excellent," said Wilcox. "A few days after the next dose, it will have been over two months… and we can go pay the Catalyst, and Nelson and Ingot, a visit."

Albus nodded as Wilcox released the handcuffs. Wilcox pulled back the curtain, which was enchanted so that only Wilcox or his clones could pull it open, and Albus dutifully climbed back into the prison, floating into nothingness again. Inside, though, Albus's soul was roiling with fury, and he knew that one day, somehow or another, the tides would turn, and he was going to wipe every trace of Wilcox off of the face of the planet and every planet.

O

"Guess what day it is?!"

The excited voice drifted towards Lucy long before Lyle Grody rounded the corner, a grin way too big even for his stupid doughy face plastered on him. Grody was holding a condom in the air, wild eyes looking Lucy up and down as if he were seeing her for the first time.

Lucy's eye twitched. "I know what day it is."

"Good," said Grody, "so you've been thinking about it all day like I have? It's been a rough day, we're all going crazy on this new project the Man in the Shadows is obsessed with. But I looked forward to this for so long. Really the only thing getting me through everything."

He tossed the condom over his shoulder.

"That was just for show," he said. "We won't need that… right? Honestly, I'm hoping to have a little red-haired baby with you. Wouldn't that be swell?"

Lucy suppressed the rising vomit and met his stare.

Grody dropped his robes far outside the prison. Abby Quinn, the Slytherin from Albus's year who'd Bonded their Unbreakable Vow, stood by, her lip curled up in the same disgust as it had been the first time she was here. She obviously did not approve of Lucy using her body and sexuality in this way, as collateral for better treatment.

"As long as you're nearby and can hear me if I call for help, you don't have to _watch_ or anything," said Grody over his shoulder to her, and Abby rolled her eyes.

Grody turned to face Lucy again, drinking in her figure once more. "Ah!" he said. "And before your body makes me forget, I have something for you…" He extracted a rose from his coat on the ground. It was healthy and vibrant. "One true red rose… as we discussed, I liked your idea to have one rose for each time we meet, so that we can keep track of how many times we get down with each other. So, here is the first rose."

He let go, and it floated into the cell, two of the petals brushing gently against the bars on either side as it passed through. Lucy caught the rose, and smiled—a softer smile than she actually wanted to, to avoid suspicion.

"So," said Grody, and he turned a key in the cell's door, opening it wide as he stepped in. "Why do you like roses so much?"

"Because they're one of the best flowering plants for casting spells," said Lucy with a grin.

The dumbstruck look on Grody's face filled her with joy as she turned the rose on him. "_Incarcerous!_"

Grody was enveloped with rope; the rose was nowhere near as powerful as a wand, of course, but it was keeping him occupied. Lucy leapt into a sprint, and as he was wrestling with the loose ropes still coiling around him, she grabbed his collar, yanked him backwards into the cell, and slammed the door behind her; it locked automatically.

An alarm was sounding already as Lucy turned her rose to Abby, who was scrambling to get her wand out, not having expected a conflict. Lucy Disarmed Abby, sending her first wand flying over Lucy's head and clattering into the hall, but Abby extracted a second wand.

Lucy dove for Abby's wand, scraping her fingers as she snatched it up off of the ground, in her clutch only barely enough for her to whip the wand around to Dissipate her opponent's strike. Lucy locked herself into combat, but Abby was a superb duelist in her own right, and this wasn't going to be easy—

Lucy was being backed down the hallway, and her eyes widened as Abby finally struck a Disarming Charm, and Abby's second wand lifted out of Lucy's hand; Abby caught it firmly, both wands directed at Lucy.

"Very clever," she sneered, "but not enough."

Lucy glanced down. Abby was standing right on top of Grody's robes…

Lucy grabbed the rose out of her pocket again and yelled, "_Accio!_"

The robes were ripped out from under Abby's feet, and she flipped over backwards. Lucy's next idea germinated instantly—how did Albus do this sort of stuff again, did he just kick the air…?

Lucy kicked the air hard, and performed a level wandless magic that she had never done before; then again, she was sitting in a cell with her magic building up inside for months, so it maybe wasn't such a surprise. Her kick blasted out a powerful pulse of energy that hit Abby's upper torso as she was falling to the ground; the impact spun her around, so that her head cracked against the stone wall of the dungeon with a loud crunch, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"But—the Unbreakable Vow!" growled Grody, finally free of his ropes but stuck inside Lucy's prison cell. He grabbed the bars of the cell and shouted through them. "You'll die if you don't come back here!"

"I think you'll find that I requested you bring me _flowers_ in order for me to acquiesce to your demands," said Lucy, holding up the rose. "_Flowers,_ plural. And I don't know about you, but I only see one _flower._"

"_Are you fucking kidding me?!_" roared Grody.

"Enjoy your time in there," said Lucy, stepping in front of the prison cell and grabbing up both of Abby's wands. "If we ever capture you back, I'm going to feed you gray slime for the rest of your gray, slimy life."

Grody mouthed words but was speechless. Lucy turned, knowing she might not have much time now that alarms were going off, and she sped down the hallway that was to the left when facing the prison cell. She turned down the right hallway, and recalled the path from this point which she'd memorized from Grody's footsteps every time he left her cell following dinner: Fifteen, right. Fifty-seven, left. Twenty-two, left.

After fifteen strides, she reached a fork in the hallway, and turned right. Only fifty-three strides instead of fifty-seven—but then again, she was running—she reached another turn, and she chose the left path. Just ahead, she could see the next left that she was supposed to take, but someone was chasing her down from behind.

She cast a fierce wind behind her and rounded the right hallway instead, and then pressed herself against the wall with a Disillusionment Charm and waited. When the guard ran around the corner, he skidded to a stop and looked around for her, until Lucy fired an Imperius Curse right into the side of his head, and he suddenly became her escort out of the prison complex.

Lucy kept on her Disillusionment Charm, so that when anyone looked in her direction, all they saw was the Imperiused guard running down the hallway, and nobody stopped to look twice. The guard led her through the maze of tunnels, and when they reached the exit, he inserted his wand into a scanner, and the door opened.

Sweet, sweet daylight enveloped Lucy's body, and she breathed in the fresh air deeply.

She ran from the compound until she was far enough away to be out of the range of any of its spells, and with a twist, she Disapparated. She left the Imperiused guard to defend the spot from which she had Disapparated, so that he could delay their attempts to follow her until she was long gone.

She set out to find her family. And now that she couldn't be used as a bargaining chip, it was time to strike back.

O

_It's time,_ he knew instinctively.

It had been a little over a week since the third dosage of Marionette's Medicine that Albus had received. He obediently floated towards the curtain that separated him from the rest of the world, and almost immediately when he reached it, Wilcox pulled it open.

"It's time," he said with his distinctive sinister grin. He downed a potion, and he was transformed by the Polyjuice until he looked like Lucy Weasley, just as he had the night he had captured Albus.

Albus floated out, and set himself still in the center of the room. Wilcox grabbed him by the collar and Disapparated, and they reappeared in Egypt. Wilcox, with the unprecedented ability to teleport virtually anywhere, had brought them to Egypt; Albus now had to do the last leg of the teleportation to bring them directly to the Catalyst, since Wilcox didn't know its precise location. With Wilcox's grip still tight on his neck, Albus was the one to Disapparate next.

They appeared on a patch of sand that immediately cleared away to reveal the seal of the Pandoran Catalyst underneath.

Albus was in full panic. If Nelson and Ingot were looking out of their house now, they would only see Albus and his cousin headed into the Catalyst—they wouldn't know that he needed rescuing.

Wilcox stepped into the center of the seal, and Albus stepped out, knowing that it wasn't a great idea for a bystander to be inside while the Catalyst was being activated. Wilcox vanished instantly, and that was it.

He was inside the Catalyst. Getting the power of the Superstorm. The seal turned bright purple as the power inside began to activate.

Albus stood still, commanded to do so and unable to fight the command. He could do this—he was gifted in mental magic—he struggled and fought and desperately hacked away at the strings that were holding him in place, the puppet strings that Wilcox was manipulating. It couldn't end like this… If he could just find a way to fight the MM, he could end it now—when Wilcox resurfaced, he would fire a Killing Curse into the man's head. Wilcox wouldn't be expecting it, he thought MM was flawless… the question remained, was it?

And then, suddenly, all hope vanished.

Ten Propheteers dropped out of the sky in front of him.

Wilcox was done with Albus now that he'd accessed the Catalyst—he'd be more than willing to allow Albus to die right now, and so Albus's marionette body did not move as the Propheteers raised hands towards him.

He was about to die, and Wilcox would be unstoppable.

One Propheteer was in the front of the rest—the one with a more ornate robe. He fired first, a bright white jet that struck Albus in the chest, and Albus's entire body seized up and dropped to the floor.

It hadn't been the killing blow yet, but he was sure it was coming…

"We should have been able to intercept Helio Wilcox sooner," said the Propheteer who had immobilized him. "It is the greatest failure in all the history of all our efforts. We will do our best to rectify it."

For the first time in the two months since he had been captured by Wilcox, a glimmer of hope lit inside Albus's heart.

"We understand that you are still alive because _Helio Wilcox_ is still alive," continued the ornately-robed Propheteer. "He took steps to conceal his true intentions. We were prevented from knowing that there was more than one of him. We will do everything in our power to assist you until Helio Wilcox can be killed for eternity." He grabbed Albus's wrist. "You will be the next to go once he is gone. But we will help you to defeat him first. You have the full force of the Propheteers behind you now. If you ever need us—use the incantation _Destinate_."

He reached into his robe and extracted a wand—Albus's second wand, and it glowed brightly even in the direct sunlight as it was reunited with its owner.

The Propheteer tucked the wand into Albus's robes and Disapparated, reappearing with a crack in a dark cave lit only by a fire. Then, he let go of Albus, and Disapparated once more, leaving Albus on the ground where he lay.

"_STAND DOWN!_" came a most wonderfully familiar shout. "Stand down, and reveal yourself, or we will cast to kill!"

He could not move, and even if he could he was still bound by the Marionette's Medicine, but the Albus inside the shell was crying for joy at the sound of his father's voice.

"Stay on the ground! Release your wands! Don't—"

An otter Patronus raced into the sky above Albus, and there were multiple gasps.

"_Albus!_"

"It's Albus!"

"Blimey—how the bloody hell did he find us here?!"

"Why isn't he moving?"

Ginny approached Albus, and fired off a human-presence-revealing spell; the halo above Albus's head was not its usual red-orange, but a very pale blue. "He's Body-Bound," said Ginny. "By a _very_ powerful person. But he's alive! Thank Merlin—for a moment I thought they were delivering us his corpse as a message…"

"Don't revive him yet," said a voice, and Lucy came into view—Lucy! Albus's relief spread even further throughout his body at the knowledge that Lucy had somehow gotten out of her holding cell. "Not until we check him for the Marionette's Medicine. Do we have the ability in here?"

"We do," said Aunt Hermione's voice, and there was a puff of gas over Albus's body.

The gas turned bright green.

"Well, shit," said Uncle Ron, stepping forward. "He _is_ a marionette. But why is he unconscious?"

Albus's brother and sister stepped into the light of the Patronus, and he was absolutely overjoyed to see them—he just had to wait three weeks until the Marionette's Medicine wore off until he could hug them like he wanted, but it was better than staying in Wilcox's prison.

"Someone must have delivered him here," said Lily. "Knowing we could help him!"

"But who?" asked James. "There isn't anyone else here—Mum's spell would have revealed them…"

"Enough chatting," said a less familiar, drawling voice.

Albus felt a foot slide under the back of his head, lifting it up, and then a large hand tipped a potion into his mouth, with a wand in the person's other hand opening up his throat to coax the potion down.

As soon as the potion reached his stomach, he felt snapping sensations in all of his muscles and his brain, and he knew that the strings of the Marionette's Medicine had been severed.

He was revived from his Body-Bind, and he sat up, looking around.

Draco Malfoy had administered him the potion.

"Guess what little potion we found the cure for," said Draco, with a smirk.

Albus wasted no time in charging at his family, enveloping them all in an enormous hug. He held it for a long time, and so did they; he wanted this hug to make up for all the hugs that he should have shared with his family if they had been a normal family growing up in a normal world. Who knew when they would even get to hug again after this one?

"I missed you guys," he said. "So much."

"We're so happy you're safe," said Ginny, and even after they all let go, Lily held a death grip around Albus's waist.

"We've been pretty isolated from everything else going on while we focused all our efforts on curing the Marionette's Medicine," said Harry. "But we finally broke through on that front! Mind telling us what the situation is in the rest of the world?"

Albus nodded. "Fair warning… it's not pleasant."

"Oh, damn," said James, grinning. "It's not pleasant? Really? I was hoping that Wilcox had turned to a life of rainbows and tulips by now."

It was a dumb little jab, but the remark, so classically James, made Albus break down into tears of joy.

He was home.

It might not have been where he was born, or where he grew up—he had no idea where they were right now, honestly. But he was where his family was. And for a few precious moments, it was all that mattered.

Now all that mattered was keeping it that way.


	27. The Harry Potter Effect

_**I've seen a lot of reviewers asking a lot of variants of two main questions, so I figured I'd give brief responses here, and longer responses once the series is concluded.**_

**1: Can you make a list of Devoctrices and all their effects?**

_**A: I've actually been working on it this past week since so many of you have asked. I'm going to post it in this story, after the last chapter of this book. It's going to be written as if part of Desulgon's**_** Musin****gs**_** room on his moon base, like the other one-shot written from Desulgon's perspective that I wrote a while back (Dalton Desulgon's Demonstrative Dueling Didacticisms). This one is called Dalton Desulgon's Definitive Devoctrix Directory. I don't want to post it as a separate one-shot, though, because of how disastrously immense the spoilers are for all seven books if someone ignores the spoiler warning. So I'm posting it at the end of this book, to ensure as few people as possible read it before intended, because there are even spoilers for the last chapter in there.**_

_**Though, awesomely enough, if you head to the reviews you can catch a complete list of the Devoctrices, which has names along with a few examples of each. It was posted by guest reviewer RedGloriae, and I looked it over and it's accurate. Thank you!**_

**2: What are you doing when you finish the series?**

_**A: I'm going to work on the Dark Revival... slowly. I don't see myself doing uploads very swiftly with that, unfortunately, because of other much more breadwinning commitments. I'll maybe aim for three or four chapters a month, but it'll be much less structured. I also have a one-shot that I can't upload until after the last chapter, so I'll tack that on to the end of this story as well. It's called Vanessa's Vantage, and it's about some pretty important decisions made by Albus's psychiatrist herself, Dr. Vanessa Varnisse. It was initially part of the series, but there was nowhere to insert it that really fit, and it contains a hugely complex plot point that isn't really necessary to your understanding of the series but which will radically change what you think you know about three very important characters.**_

_**There's also a pretty excellent surprise coming for you from Andy, which you'll find out tomorrow after the epilogue is uploaded. I know he's been excited to reveal that, but since it would spoil the very end of the series, he has to wait till tomorrow to tell you the exciting news. I think you'll all be very pleased to hear it.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THE HARRY POTTER EFFECT

O

"Albus," said Harry, walking over and sitting next to his son in front of the fire. He put a hand across Albus's shoulder. "You know how overwhelmingly proud I am of you… right?"

Albus knew that his father was trying to comfort him, since he had inadvertently introduced Wilcox to the Pandoran Catalyst and possibly gotten Nelson and Ingot killed, along with eventually most of the world. He shrugged off his father's arm.

"No, I am," said Harry. "Think about everything you've done. London would already be gone, wiped clean off the map. Pyron would still be out there, waiting to be reunited by some fool who wouldn't be able to destroy him, and that might have ended the world if it hadn't been you. And without you being the first to run across the Pandoran Catalyst when it resurfaced… Wilcox would have run across it instead, undoubtedly. Instead, we know what we're up against and can prepare for it. Not to mention we would never have known Wilcox was evil in the first place if it hadn't been for you."

Albus shrugged again.

"I wanted to talk to you, before we go try to take Hogwarts back," said Harry, "because I have a strong worry that I need you to understand."

"What's that?"

"The Harry Potter effect," said Harry.

Albus furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"I think people have used that term before," said Harry, grimacing as he scratched his sideburns, looking for how to express his thoughts. "What I mean is… and I'm not trying to toot my own horn here because I didn't really deserve the attention… you've got a big, bright red target on your back. And your face. And your neck. And everywhere. You've got targets everywhere… you are going to be the first and primary focus of all of Wilcox's forces. They know that if you fall in battle, it is going to be a huge moral defeat for our side—maybe enough to scatter our forces."

"That's ridiculous," scoffed Albus. "I'm not the only fighter we have on our side—I'm not even the best!"

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "They're going to zoom in on you like a cloud of hornets because they think that's their best shot at making our forces afraid. It doesn't matter if they're right or not, or how hard we plan to fight if some of us fall—they will try it. And this threat might be well-founded. You have been, after all, the subject of several very meaningful prophecies. You still are. People really do think there's something special about you."

"I've just been in all the right places at all the right times," said Albus.

"As was I," said Harry. "If you can call them 'right', that is. Being in the right place at the right time meant the fall of Voldemort, but it also meant the loss of both of my parents, and many parents and children in years to come. Less than if Voldemort had lived? Absolutely. Would I have chosen it for myself? I don't know…" He rustled a hand through his hair, clearly not sure how he wanted to phrase everything.

"I understand what you mean," said Albus.

"On the flipside," said Harry, "you invoke a similar and opposite effect in our family, in our fighters. People are going to look to you for support. You've been involved in the fight against Wilcox as deeply as anyone; you've dabbled with the powers he's exploiting. You're going to be one of the leaders in this fight. Whether you want to or not. But just like losing you would set our morale back, having you with us and leading us is going to greatly increase our morale, keep us believing there's hope. Because if you can keep fighting, after everything that's happened to you and all that you've been through, and if you could score so many victories against a nearly omnipotent evil… then maybe the rest of us have a chance."

"But it was luck, so much of it, and the luck ran out right when I finally had any ability, but stumbling across the abilities was just another stroke of luck—"

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "If there's one thing I took away from my experience in the war on Voldemort, it was this: Being special isn't about what you can do, or what you can't do. It's about what you can inspire others to do. And so when I say you're special, I do mean that you may very well be the bravest, most talented young wizard I've ever had the pleasure to _hear_ about, let alone raise as my child—but moreover, I mean that everyone is looking to you. It doesn't matter what you do or do not think of yourself, at this time or ever. People are looking to you because they see you as special—and so you _are_ special to them, whether or not you are to yourself.

"We don't need you to forgive yourself for any mistakes you've made," finished Harry. "We don't need you to wish things were different. We also don't need you to try and win this all by yourself, or tell us who would be better suited to your position. What we need of you is for you to take control of your position, regardless of how well you think you are suited for it, and do the best that you can with it, to inspire everyone else to do the best that they can do." Harry placed the arm back on Albus's shoulder. "Do you think you can do that?"

Staring into the roaring fire, Albus did not shrug off his father's arm this time. He nodded slowly.

"Thank you, Albus," said Harry. "Remember: how we got here is no longer the issue. What is the issue is that everyone is going to be looking out for you. The spotlight was strong on you for your entire life, but it's never been stronger now. They're waiting to see what you'll do."

"I'll do what needs to be done," said Albus, looking up at his father. "To preserve as much life as I can."

"That's my son," said Harry, tousling Albus's hair, "which is _also_ true whether or not you want it."

"I wouldn't rather be anyone else's," said Albus, and Harry kissed him on the top of the head. "They're gonna be after _you_ too, you know."

"Oh, I know," laughed Harry. "Come and get me, I say. I'll line 'em up and knock 'em down. I killed Voldemort and I'm the master of death!"

Albus laughed together with his father for the first time in years.

They turned serious for some time, and discussed the battle plan for taking back Hogwarts as a base for the resistance. When they were done, they discussed what the next step would inevitably have to be: launching an attack on the Ministry of Magic itself, to forcibly distribute the cure to MM to everyone they could, not knowing just how many people in the building were captive to it.

When they finished, and described an ideal scenario of victory where Wilcox was defeated and killed completely, Albus's face clouded over as he remembered something that one of the Propheteers had said.

"Dad," said Albus. "I…"

His question caught in his throat, and didn't come out.

Harry looked down at his son, but let the question come out without interference.

Albus cleared his throat, and he started again. "The Propheteers… they said that after Wilcox was dead… if the fight didn't kill me, they would."

Harry looked down at Albus, but still didn't say anything, as he sensed that Albus wasn't done.

Albus cleared his throat again, and then a third time. Now he was the one unsure of how to word his thoughts.

"What was dying like?"

Harry put his arm all the way around Albus, and hugged him in close. "Albus… don't ask me that."

"I want to know."

"You've asked me this before."

"And I was very young," said Albus, "so you probably didn't answer fully. And I was too young to really process the… process… even if you did tell me the honest truth. I never really thought about it too hard, even when I was on the brink of death, I never really imagined the aftermath… never pictured myself there, I was too occupied with staying here. But I'm going to end up there after this fight, one way or another. In the afterlife. The prophecy said so and the Propheteers will make sure it happens. So I want to know what's going to happen… so I know… so I understand."

"You'll understand eventually," said Harry. "You'll have plenty of time to understand later, but this isn't the time to think about it. And we'll do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't—"

"Dad, there's nothing you can—"

"We've repelled worse foes, you've escaped them before—"

"I can't escape them forever, they won't stop—"

"—don't make me do this—"

"Please," said Albus. "Please, Dad. I want to know." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm in turmoil. You can give me peace. Please tell me."

Harry put a hand over his eyes. He steadied his breathing, and worked as hard as he could not to lose his composure. He pulled his hand back down, stared up at the ceiling for a moment, and then sniffed. He turned to Albus.

"It was a great white nothing," he said softly. "Or… I don't even know if it was white, but it was a great nothing. It was only white when I perceived it that way." He paused. "I was surrounded by nothingness which formed into familiar things. And then I saw the piece of Voldemort's soul that had been eradicated with me—mangled, emaciated, pitiable."

"Because he created Horcruxes," said Albus.

"Yes. Because he split his soul. Because he murdered."

"What if it was because he used the Devoctrices?"

"That's not the reason," said Harry quickly, and then as if worried that he'd said it _too_ quickly, he reinforced his assertion. "No, Albus—Dumbledore knew what it was, and it was his mangled, split soul, from the crimes and not the specific spells, and only unrepaired because he never repented, as you have done every time anyone has been hurt in any situation you are involved. Dumbledore cast at least one Devoctrix, too—his Hocus-Focuser—and he was fine. You will be fine."

His father's note about Dumbledore did assuage some of his fears.

"I spoke with Dumbledore for a long time," said Harry. "But no time passed on Earth at all, as far as I understood. We discussed some of the mysteries in the same way I might have done with his portrait… and then he asked me where I thought I was. I looked around. It appeared to be King's Cross station. Dumbledore said that I didn't have to go back to Earth—that I could have stayed, I could board a train, and it would take me 'on'. That's how he described it… 'On'. Just the one word."

They let that word ring in the cave for a while, until the popping and crackling of the flames had erased it.

"Board a train," said Albus.

"I didn't," said Harry, "because I was tethered to life, and I had a choice to go back. But I _was_ offered the choice."

"Doesn't seem like much of a choice," laughed Albus.

"Believe me," said Harry, "it was."

As Harry had done before, Albus stayed quiet to let Harry continue.

"You have no idea how much I craved what I felt there," said Harry. "Years of mental and physical fatigue. Months of tense exploits all around the globe. In short, pretty much what you've been going through—you may even have had it worse than I did, actually.

"Up there… everything felt perfect. I was physically and mentally strong and clear. Because I was feeling my soul rather than my body, I think. My soul was in limbo, ready to move on if I wanted to leave my physical body behind, sever all ties. But I knew I couldn't. I couldn't sever those ties to my friends and loved ones. So I went back, back to all the pain and suffering, back to an imperfect life in an imperfect world, back to more villains who took over the mantle of taking over the world after Voldemort was gone. And I've had to watch more friends and family die. But I can help try to make this world a little less imperfect while I'm here, and that seems like a worthy mission to me. And I don't fear my eventual death. Because I know that after I have done all that I can, after my ties here are finally severed… the place that I am going, beyond those trains I will board, is where everyone will meet again. The only thing that would make me afraid to die is if I didn't think I did everything I was capable of doing to make this world more like the one past King's Cross." He straightened his back up again and readjusted his grip around Albus's side. "I hope that helped…"

"It did," said Albus. "Thank you."

They stared at the fire for as long as they could.

"Boys," said Ginny, walking over. "It's time to head out. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," said Albus, standing up and turning to face his mother. "For whatever comes our way."

Ginny nodded to him, and tossed them each a broom. "You'd better be," she said seriously. "Your father talked to you, then?"

"Yes," said Albus. "I know they're going to be targeting me, but I also know I have to be out there, and I have to stay strong."

"Good to hear you say," said Ginny. "Come on—we're all lined up at the cave entrance." They followed Ginny towards the front of the cave. "And I know they're threatening to kill you when this is finished, but we're going to need the backup… you'll call the Propheteers when we get to Hogwarts, right?"

"Yes," said Albus.

"Good," said Ginny. "We'll need them… hell, one of them teleported right through our defenses to drop you off here, and not even Wilcox could do that…"

"Careful you don't jinx that," said Lily, looking over from her broom.

"What—" Albus looked back and forth between his parents. "_Lily's_ not coming—is she?!"

Lily gave Albus the most intense glare she'd ever delivered.

"It's no offense, Lily—but you're fifteen!"

"That's what Dad said," noted James, looking over from his own broom, "so Lily challenged him to a duel and ended up getting the better of him, and he couldn't well make the argument that she should stay after that, unless he wanted to stay behind too. Hugo did the same for Uncle Ron, except he actually totally beat the pants off of Uncle Ron."

"Wandlore and theory is getting much better," defended Uncle Ron, his face a bit red.

Albus looked around at his family, getting their brooms ready, and was surprised to see Draco and his wife and son with them.

Draco happened to look back at that moment, and took note of Albus's surprise; Albus tried to play it off. He walked over to Draco.

"There's something I've been wondering," he asked. "What did you mean, when I came to get the Polyjuice Potion from you… What did you mean when you said I had 'friends in high places'?"

Draco looked him in the eye. "I would have thought this was something you were aware of? The man who came to visit me to warn me of your arrival?"

"Only Eftan and Scorpius knew," said Albus, confused.

"Evidently not," said Draco. "A man came to visit me while I was out getting Potionmaking supplies. He grabbed me by the wrist and teleported me to a cave in the middle of nowhere. Dueled me down in two seconds. Said I needed to listen and open up my mind for once. None of this ringing a bell? You didn't order him?"

"No," said Albus, "but I'm starting to make a guess of who he is. Thin black stubble with thin black hair? Darker shade of skin, prominent jaw?"

"That's him," said Draco. "So you do know him?"

"I didn't order Draxler Cordot to do anything for me, though," said Albus. "I actually have a feeling it's been the other way around for a while now. What did he do?"

"He took me into the cave, and told me to listen closely, and to definitely never touch the water," said Draco. "We moved to the back, where there was a waterfall, and he parted the water. Behind it was this strange, violet-black void. He gestured me to go into it. Sensing I didn't have a choice, I decided to go with my dignity and walked into the void." He tensed as if remembering something painful. "A voice… it talked directly into my head. It was so painful. I couldn't have stood more than a minute in there. The voice told me I was critically important. That I had to be a part of the fight or the fight was lost. I had visions—I saw you, and your father. I saw myself pushing them away and I saw the world, including my own family, go up in flames. I wanted to forget it, but some sense within my body, some natural instinct told me that I was seeing the unfiltered truth of what would happen if I made the wrong decision." He looked over to Albus. "And then the man dragged me out and threw me back into the street where he'd grabbed me. Before he disappeared, he leaned in close and said he hopes I'll reconsider my vow of neutrality in this conflict, if not for the sake of the world than for the sake of my family. And so I have."

As Albus was about to speak, Draco cut him off. "Don't thank me, in case you were thinking of doing so," said Draco. "I would never have done this of my own accord, so don't give me gratitude or compliment my character or anything. I don't want to be thanked, because my son's best friend was murdered, and he couldn't go back to Hogwarts for fear of them learning he and his father were working for the other side. In short, cut with the niceties… just win the bloody war so I can be sure that the only choice I was offered was the right choice."

Albus opted not to press the subject. "We will."

It confirmed the story that Nelson had theorized, though—Draxler Cordot had been pulling the strings from the beginning for him.

They lined up to take off—the roster in entirety was Harry, Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily; Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Rose, and Hugo; Uncle Bill, Aunt Fleur, Dominique, Louis, and Gil; Uncle Percy, Molly and her boyfriend Dyson Stenet, and Lucy; Uncle George, Aunt Angelina, Freddie and his fiancée Ying, Roxanne and her boyfriend Frankie; Draco, Astoria, and Scorpius, which was very weird; and Uncle Charlie with two young dragons perched on his shoulder.

Scorpius looked in his direction and smirked. "Scared, Potter?"

Albus shook his head no, but he actually was. On one hand, it was great to have so many fighters they could unequivocally trust. On the other hand… if even just one of them fell in battle… it would be devastating.

Wilcox had an army. But they would have a way to build an army; all they needed was a headquarters of some sort. For now, that looked like to be Hogwarts. It had withstood one assault from an ultra-powerful wizard. Could it withstand the Superstorm?

They took off into the air, one by one, and set course for Hogwarts.

They flew throughout the gentle spring night, on into the morning. As the sun began to rise on their right, the castle began to rise up in front of them.

"Sending word to Neville," said Harry, in front of Albus. He took out a golden coin of some sort. It looked like a Galleon, but he pressed his wand to it and began whispering.

About a minute later, as they were finally bearing down on the castle, they saw lights in one of the first-floor windows—bright intermittent flashes that could only be from a duel.

"No time to waste!" called Ginny, clutching closely into her broom and diving down towards the window where the flashes were taking place. She tucked herself in, cloaking herself in a tight shield, and shattered straight through the window as alarms blared throughout the castle. They scattered, pouring into different windows so to throw off the siege alarms; Albus flew past the window to see Paragost Plinky locked in combat with Auchland, and Ginny joining in to assist him.

Albus soared into a breezeway close to the Gryffindor common room, and flew into the castle and up a flight of stairs to hover in front of the Fat Lady.

She yelped when she saw him, but Albus put his hands in the air. "I promise," he said, "I mean no one in this castle any harm unless they mean harm to an innocent person. I need to get in and recruit some friends—we're taking the castle back from the forces of evil tonight."

"I didn't know the forces of evil _had_ the castle," said the Fat Lady, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, but you need the password to pass through here, as you well know, or you'll have to wait for someone to let you in!"

"We don't have time for this!" shouted Albus. "Let me in—please!"

"Albus? Is that you?"

The call came from behind the Fat Lady. The door swung open, and Jonah Baxter-Thornton from his year was standing on the other side.

"Albus!" he yelped excitedly, and the other seventh years began to fill in behind him, crying out in surprise and delight at seeing him.

"What's going on?" asked Toby, referring to the siege alarms.

"We're taking the castle back," said Albus, casting a spell to enlarge his pocket and stowing his broom there. "Many of you probably knew I wasn't just going around murdering Hogwarts professors, and you were right—I was almost killed at the end of last year because I was trying to escape the castle after learning the truth. The Man in the Shadows is Auchland!" He figured he'd break that news to them now, and break the bigger news that there was a man in the shadows _behind_ the Man in the Shadows later, when they wouldn't think he was crazy for accusing the beloved Helio Wilcox. "So come on! The Slytherins might put up a fight—"

He hadn't even had the chance to say the Slytherins were brainwashed and probably forced to fight; he had said enough for the Gryffindors to come pouring out of the common room at the prospect of dueling all the Slytherins. Dorothy Cyrosta, who had a sister in Hufflepuff, took off in a different direction towards the Hufflepuff common room to rouse those students as well, and a sixth year from Gryffindor who had reportedly gotten very good at guessing the answers to the Ravenclaw riddles, split off towards the Ravenclaw common room.

As Riley passed Albus, he roared and gave Albus a hug as if they were best friends in school.

"Thank you again for the Felix Felicis in sixth year," said Albus, trying to make amends. "You honestly saved my life more than once with that."

"No problem," said Riley.

"I wanted to apologize if I was ever short with you," said Albus, now joining Riley in running alongside the other Gryffindors on their way down to where the action was happening. "And I'm sorry I used to think you were a jerk—"

"No, I was definitely a total dickhead," said Riley. "Still am! Apology not accepted. Now let's go!"

"Albus, I missed you so much," said Candice Carlen, despite their history of rarely ever talking to each other. She ran up to him and jogged alongside him. "How have you been, out on your own in the big wide world?" She stroked a hand down his arm. "Has it been terribly lonely?"

Albus gave a noncommittal "I'm okay" and drifted slowly away from Candice.

They reached the first floor, and ran into the foyer in front of the Great Hall—three duels were happening here; it looked like Paris Evranote, Flower Pratley, and Laney Norton, three of the Alternative Routes to Magic program professors, had backed Leslie Tetchel, Greta Pierce, and Megan Crim into this corner. As they were about to make a move to join in the combat to assist their professors, Professor Pratley, who was using both a wand and a scepter in the duel, blasted Greta Pierce headlong into the door of the Great Hall; as Pierce smacked directly into the door, Professor Pratley slammed the door all the way open so that Pierce was smashed against the wall next. She peeled off like a strip of old tape and thumped onto the floor, and then Professor Pratley joined the other A.R.M. teachers to make quick work of the remaining two. Professor Pratley then took her scepter and thoroughly broke the hands of each of those teachers so that even if the enemy broke in and revived them, they would not be able to hold a wand for a while.

"You're not going to leave anyone for us to get!" complained Scott Waters.

"Careful what you wish for," warned Wendy Harowa.

They heard a roar from above, and ran to the bottom of the stairwell to watch.

Professor Longbottom was locked in vicious combat with Auchland on the seventh floor; they sent wild spells at each other from across the stairwell, and neither was making any progress on the other as Professor Longbottom ducked and Dissipated, and Auchland absorbed some spells with his enchanted robes and carved through others with calculated counterattacks. The students below watched in fascination as Professor Longbottom kept pace with a former Head of the Auror Office who was the right-hand man of the Man in the Shadows.

Auchland Disapparated suddenly, and appeared behind Professor Longbottom, who leapt over the railing to avoid him, propelling himself onto the ground of the sixth floor instead as Auchland Disapparated again, taking advantage of the fact that he could Apparate within Hogwarts and Professor Longbottom could not—

"Hey, Auchland, you prick!" yelled Albus up the stairs. "Did you miss me?"

Auchland whipped around to glance down the stairs, and he boiled over with rage upon seeing Albus standing there—and then he turned his attention back to Professor Longbottom, but it was too late. Professor Longbottom had already cast a spell that transformed Auchland's wand arm into a large leafy branch; Auchland tried to grab his wand out of the leaves with his other arm but ended up with two branches for arms. A third spell completed the tree with his torso and head becoming a trunk and a treetop, and then his legs joined together to become a pot to hold the Auchland tree.

There were raucous cheers from the students below, and Professor Longbottom leaned over the railing to take a bow for them.

"Wait, that can't be _it,_" said Pallie Bell. "It can't have been _that_ easy to take down the Man in the Shadows. Can it?"

"No," said Albus. "The Man in the Shadows is the name they gave to Auchland to distract from the real bad guy; there's someone even worse, further behind the scenes from there. We'll give you the rundown after we secure the castle."

Right on cue, there was a sound of many running footsteps; the Slytherins were coming into view. And from the looks of it, every single Slytherin in the House, from first years to seventh years, were charging towards the professors and the seventh year Gryffindors.

But then, also right on cue, the seventh year Hufflepuffs ran in, headed by the Cyrosta twins; and from above, the Ravenclaws dropped down from the top floor onto a Cushioning Charm cast by Holly Glissendale.

Holly's eyes did not narrow when she saw Albus, nor did she sneer or snort angrily. She simply looked at him and nodded, and Albus nodded back. History was not important right now—the fight, however, was critically important.

Shortly after that, Plinky reappeared with Ginny. "Where did he go?" squeaked Plinky. "He Disapparated on us right as we were about to get the better of him, the coward!"

"Professor Longbottom took care of him," said Albus. "Get everyone else here!"

Ginny sent thoughts through a massively interwoven web of Connectivity Charms, which Albus also heard: _Converge, first floor stairwell! Slytherin students are attacking, presumably brainwashed, do NOT cast to kill!_

The Slytherins set themselves for combat when they had almost reached the other Houses, and then there was a rush of brooms and the rest of the Potter-Weasley family zoomed in, dismounting their brooms in fighting stances. Obbin, the house-elf Astronomy professor, dropped down next from one of the upper floors, and the other teachers who weren't in league with Wilcox followed shortly after him.

Albus grinned at the arrival of all of their forces, and he added his wand into the air. But when he looked back over to the Slytherins, his grin faded instantly.

Every one of them was staring directly at him.

The Harry Potter effect.

James noticed, and took a broad step to stand directly between his brother and the Slytherin army. He turned to face Albus for a moment. "Call your friends?"

"Yeah," said Albus, and he lifted his wand towards the sky, not exactly sure how to do this but confident that they'd find him with any way he tried. "_Destinate!_"

_Crack._

Added to their army now were a hundred duelists, and they all moved in front of Albus like a personal guard. Several of the Gryffindors gave appreciative whistles to Albus's security force, and Albus couldn't help but feel once again that the tide was turning. He'd learned, of course, not to get cocky, but he had to stay confident. Especially when, as Harry said, all eyes were on him.

The Harry Potter effect again.

As his father had said, Albus couldn't think of the crushing weight of the responsibility, or wish anyone else were in his position. He just had to do everything he could to make the world a better place for everyone.

And so he fired the first spell into the air, which arced down the Slytherins, exploding and scattering them in half.

The Hogwarts students, the Potters and Weasleys, and the Propheteers surged into combat. Charlie, Uncle George, and Aunt Angelina hovered on brooms behind their ranks, casting defensive enhancements; they were joined by seven hovering Propheteers in yellow robes. Seven Propheteers in blue robes were kneeling in the front, dissolving or blocking every spell sent at Albus's side so that the rest of them could focus on the attacks; they must have specially trained the blue and yellow fighters for defense and the red for offense.

The fighters in the back cast high arcing spells that smashed down within the Slytherins' ranks to confuse and distract them, and the fighters in front Stunned and Body-Bound with startling precision; Albus cast the Vitiation Charm on the _Rennervate_ spell so that the Slytherins could not revive their fallen fighters, and in a matter of two minutes, they had picked off the last few holdouts and conquered the Slytherins.

"How much of the cure do you have?" asked Albus, looking over at his father.

"We've been brewing it nonstop since discovering it," said Harry. He looked over at all of the fallen Slytherins. "I'd say we've got at least enough for a hundred times this many people. It doesn't take much of the antidote to cure someone."

"We may _need_ it for a hundred times this many people," said Draco. "Have you considered how many people are likely under the influence of MM? Cure the seventh years, those who can fight, and we should lock the others down somewhere. Think pragmatically, Potter, not emotionally!"

"I'm not being _emotional,_" growled Harry. "We may need them for other purposes—like recruiting their parents, for example—"

"We may need the _potion_ for other more important purposes as well—"

"Well, I'm sure we could come up with a great many hypotheticals if we _ferret around_ enough, but we've got a definitive situation in front of us—"

"Boys," snapped Astoria. "Has anyone checked to see if they even ARE under the Marionette's Medicine?"

Draco and Harry glanced over at her awkwardly. Harry took a canister of gas, opened it and tossed it into the center of the pile of unconscious Slytherin students. The gas poured out and rushed over all of the students, but never changed from its sparkling white color.

"I swear," said Astoria, shaking her head. "Well, if you're going to butt heads like that all the time, at least you've both got thick skulls."

"Then what _is_ the matter with the Slytherins?" asked Harry. "This is a lot of people to cast the Imperius Curse on, and even if it were within Wilcox's power, it would take a lot of his effort…"

Draco called Scorpius over. "What were their symptoms?" he asked his son. "Your symptoms, I guess? How did you avoid it, what were they doing?"

"Eftan told me what was going on and helped me get over it," said Scorpius. "Some of the older kids were going of their own accord because they were better duelists, but everyone else in Slytherin was undergoing magical food poisoning. Eftan said Pierce heard they got the idea from Ilka and Werora. They were sending regular food up to all of the other Houses' tables during meals, but sending magically tainted food to the Slytherins' table. The poisoning was damaging their brains, making them easier to manipulate with less effort."

"That's horrific," said Draco, curling up a lip, knowing it could easily have been Scorpius under that influence as well. Albus hoped he would lose a little bit of his hostility towards the Potters when he realized that it was Eftan, a son of Harry Potter, who had saved his son from that fate.

"Then we just need to get them proper food until they're well again," said Harry. "Hopefully it hasn't damaged them too badly…"

"It might have, but we'll find medical care for them," said Ginny. "After the war. Until then… Memory Charms?"

Harry nodded, and the adults set out, casting precise Memory Charms to wipe the students' minds blank from any outside influence. Albus lifted his Vitiation Charm, and they revived the Slytherins; Scorpius escorted them back down to the dungeons to stay in the Slytherin common room.

"How long you think before Helio finds out about this?" asked Uncle Ron.

"He probably already knows," said Hermione. "He may well attack the school before the day's out. We need to accelerate our own efforts accordingly."

"Propheteers," called Albus, moving onto the next stage of their attack plans. The Propheteers surrounded him, listening carefully. "Find a Hogwarts student here. Teleport them to their parents or guardians. Inform them of what has happened to the world—that Helio Wilcox has taken over. Tell the parents that they have a choice, and that we will hold nothing against them regardless of their choice: they may have you take their child to safety in the cave where my parents were hiding, and they can wait out the war; or you can teleport us back here, and they can come join us in the fight to reclaim the Ministry."

The Propheteers nodded, and they scattered amongst the students.

"Helio _WILCOX?_" blurted some students in disbelief.

"I don't believe that," said Nearly Headless Nick, who had drifted in once the fighting had concluded. "I don't believe that one bit. Are you addled in the mind as well?"

_CRACK._

Suddenly, in the middle of the first floor stairwell, a strange black-haired man had appeared, looking around at everyone. Who was this man—and although Wilcox and Desulgon and the Propheteers could do it, how had _this_ man managed to Apparate directly into Hogwarts?

"Huh," said the stranger. "I _thought_ I heard something! Why didn't anyone invite us to the party? Hold on—let me get the others."

He Disapparated with another crack, and everyone in the room tensed in fear of the stranger. One of Wilcox's men?

But when he reappeared, he was toting Teddy, Victoire, Exo, Mia, Cynthia, Rebecca Pinzel, and Dodecus Tytezian—and Aidan and Alec.

"ALBUS!" shouted the last two together, and they ran to tackle their friend in a giant hug.

"Identities!" blurted Albus, his wands still out and his suspicions still raised.

Aidan, Alec, Exo, Mia, Teddy, and Victoire all cast their Patronuses; Harry ushered in another cloud of the MM-revealing gas, but they were all clean. All eyes turned to Cynthia and the newcomer.

"I can't cast a Patronus," said Cynthia meekly.

"And I haven't been able to yet," said the stranger, "but I'm sure I'll get it back soon."

"Who are you?" asked Rose, peering at him.

Exo clapped a hand over Mia's mouth.

"It's Professor Desulgon!" exclaimed Lily.

All eyes now turned to Lily.

"How did you know that?" asked the stranger, cracking a smile.

"Oh, just your expression," said Lily.

Everyone was surprised, but nobody except the Potters and Weasleys seemed to be particularly _shocked—_then again, nobody except the Potters and Weasleys even knew he was dead. The Propheteers simply kept going with their task of bringing the Hogwarts students home, and some had already appeared with the students' families who were ready to fight.

Albus couldn't take his eyes off the man identifying as Desulgon—was this true? Had he cloned himself? Why did the new body look entirely different?

"I'm, er, trying out a different look," said Desulgon. "Long story. I've already promised some of these people that I'd tell it to them later, so I'll tell you then as well. For now—Exo, they're in total doubt as to what your father does when nobody's watching… why don't you give them the update?"

"Long version or short version?" asked Exo.

"Both," said Desulgon. "Short first, in case they want to act on it before you're done with the long version."

"Short version, my dad's in a rocket on his way to the moon with the intention of killing every Muggle on the planet," said Exo. "We've got preparations set up for that, but I'm glad I got to confirm everything for everyone at Hogwarts first. We should probably get going, yeah?"

"Are you sure you want to be the one up there when your father arrives?" asked Desulgon. "You'll be all right?"

"I'll feel much better after I take him out, honestly," said Exo. "I'm not much of a duelist—you'll need the duelists down here. I'm more than willing to be up there; you don't even need a duelist, you just need someone to pull the switch that blows the base when my dad arrives. Everyone else will be more useful down here."

Desulgon nodded.

"How long now?"

"About two hours," said Desulgon. "I'll let you know his exact landing time and I'll tell you when to leave. I'll take note of when he scans the base and believes there's no one there. You can head out directly after that and he won't expect you."

Albus had been skeptical about this really being Desulgon… but with the way he was talking, it definitely sounded that way. He was overwhelmed with relief.

"The moon base is intact?" asked Albus. "And not controlled by Wilcox?"

"Wilcox lost a clone up there in a duel against me," answered Desulgon. "But we may have 'accidentally' dropped him some fake clues that I was the only one with a return portal from the moon, and that it was lost when I died… So as far as he knows, his clone is still alive up there, hanging out and learning all my secrets, and waiting for another Wilcox clone to come pick him up." Desulgon grinned. "Whatever endless source of knowledge he's been streaming from… My base and the surrounding area are impenetrable to that sort of Precognary penetration, so even if he's prophesizing everything, he wouldn't be able to know that he's headed into our trap."

"Perfect," said Albus. "And you're going to blow the base when he arrives?"

"That's the plan," said Desulgon. "If all goes according to it, Exo will reduce his father back to one man and be back in under three hours."

"So there's only one Wilcox on Earth right now," said Albus. "And do you know where he is?"

"He's on the move," said Desulgon. "Gathering forces. Probably headed here."

"Here?"

The Potters and Weasleys, who were all tuned in to this conversation, all looked at each other with fear.

"This was a smart place to make your base of operations," said Desulgon. "I know Wilcox has the Superstorm Devoctrix, but Hogwarts was built on very strong magical foundations. He won't be able to just rip the floor out from under you. Especially because I sense that his casting of the Superstorm was… quite a bit less than adequate."

"Really?" asked Albus.

"Yes, he didn't accomplish that with quite the level of intensity that I sensed you did even in just the short time you had it," said Desulgon. "I take it that the guardians of the Catalyst taught you very well?"

Albus nodded. "I read up on a lot of the theory and practiced the precise way to control it best."

"Wilcox was too impatient to cast it properly, and too busy to better his technique before the time arrived to cast it," said Desulgon. "He won't be able to use it as effectively as you did for that short time—he'll have to either tone down the power, or risk going more insane like Gallen Ingot did if he strains the power of the Devoctrix beyond what he was able to poorly Catalyze."

Another glimmer of hope; Albus nodded.

"But you'll get to see that firsthand," said Desulgon, his smile disappearing as he closed his eyes, tapping into some other sense.

"He's here?" asked Albus, his heart falling into the pit of his stomach.

"He's here," said Desulgon, striding to the window. "And so are hundreds of his henchmen."

"Hundreds?"

Albus looked around the castle. About fifty parents had arrived; the rest had taken their children to safety, or else had not believed the story they heard.

Albus raised his wand. "_Destinate!_" he said, and the Propheteers appeared by his side. "Fortify the defenses around the castle—and then go to every magical family who will listen. We need as much help as we—"

There were sudden screams as spells rained down from overhead.

"Wilcox is teleporting people into the castle!" roared Desulgon, and he Apparated three times and struck four quick spells, incapacitating each of the fighters who had been brought within the castle, but just as quickly, Wilcox brought four more in, and then eight, twelve, sixteen. "Our boundaries aren't going to help us—"

"_Piertotum_ _Locomotor!_" called Professor Longbottom, and the statues all around the castle jumped out of their poses, crunching down on some of the invaders and chasing others down with their swords drawn.

"Fight with us here!" amended Albus to the Propheteers, and they set to work battling the intruders alongside the Hogwarts fighters.

"We're surrounded!" said Desulgon. "I can teleport us all away like Wilcox is teleporting them in, but Wilcox will know exactly where we all are and we'd just be in the same situation in a different location!"

"So what's the plan?" asked James as dozens more fighters appeared in the middle of the stairwell, and their entire army set into duels.

"I can leave first and set up better defenses somewhere in preparation for your arrival, but we'll need time there beforehand so I can work the Barricant properly to keep the intruders out. And then I'll—"

Desulgon's eyes popped all the way open.

"Oh, no," he said softly. "Wilcox has found some way to—I can't teleport!"

"Propheteers!" called Albus. "Can you teleport?"

"No, sir! Something's intercepting even our Magimorph Apparition!"

Desulgon shook his head, grimacing. "Then I can't teleport everyone away from here. We'll have to escape some other way—and we will definitely have to escape, now or later. We can't stay here. They'll crush us with numbers!"

"Could you ride people out one by one or two by two on brooms, and Apparate them away?"

"But the more people I take out of here, the smaller an army will be facing Wilcox's forces," said Desulgon, sending out curses while he spoke. "When I get halfway through carrying people out, there will only be half of our force left, and Wilcox will be mowing through them even faster. We'd lose so many!"

Two Propheteers dropped dead from twin Killing Curses cast by Lynwood Chinch and Obydin Auchland, who had been restored from his time as a tree. A great deal of Propheteers closed in on Chinch and Auchland in response, but someone in a dark hooded robe appeared behind them—Wilcox—and teleported them out of the line of fire and brought them somewhere else in the castle to continue fighting.

Albus looked around. People were looking at him, expecting him to have the masterful plan, the idea that would save everyone in this castle—he began to sweat, feeling the pressure from the enemies but also from the allies. They needed a strategy, and they were all looking to him—and he was going to let them down because he had no idea how they were all going to get out of this alive when they were closing in on all sides and greatly outnumbered them. He started to panic, but he knew he couldn't show any panic because everyone was counting on him—and that made him panic worse—

"Durmstrang," said Louis softly, running up to Desulgon with Gil by his side. "Durmstrang! I'll go with you, Professor, I know Headmaster Vintervolff from my relationship with the Durmstrang Triwizard Champion. We can head out of the castle by broom until we're far enough away for you to Apparate us there. I'll talk to Professor Vintervolff, I know he'll let us use the castle to take a stand against Wilcox. We should go there right now so I can talk to Vintervolff and you can start setting up the barriers!"

"How are you planning on getting everyone out of the castle and all the way to Durmstrang?" asked Desulgon, the question Albus was thinking.

"It's a Triwizard Tournament year!" exclaimed Louis. "And Durmstrang is hosting! The Subterrestrial Express below Hogwarts is set for departure for Durmstrang, where the tournament is being held! It's how they transport students to watch the Triwizard tasks, but we can use it to get there now. If we set up defenses around Durmstrang, we can all get there together by packing into the Subterrestrial Express!"

Albus was incredibly relieved that someone else had managed to come up with a plan. "And then Desulgon can come back here when he's finished," he said, "to let us know when it's safe to head to Durmstrang. We won't go until you let us know it's safe—otherwise Wilcox could attack the school before the barriers are set up."

Desulgon nodded. "Then that's the plan! _Up!_"

A broom from across the room flew into his hand, and Louis extracted his own broom. Gil pressed himself against Louis in a hard kiss, in case it was their last.

They broke away. "Desulgon will come back to let you all know when it's safe to head to Durmstrang," said Louis, and kissed him again. And then they released each other, and Louis and Desulgon flew out the nearest smashed window.

Albus had been working on the plans, but as he looked around, he saw that he really needed to work on the defense, too. Their forces were all being pushed back into the same hall that had spelled the end for Tetchel, Pierce, and Crim. Albus rushed forward to add his spellwork, and he was helping his fellow Gryffindors repel an attempt to break their lines, but then his throat seized up in the middle of an incantation when a younger student beside him hit the ground dead. He looked down to see Colin Creevey, James's mentee, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, looking tiny in death.

His furious barrage that followed did little except to attract more of his enemies towards him; when they looked over at the intensity of his spellwork, they all converged on his position, the fucking Harry Potter effect again, and one of the parents was struck dead because they were too close to him—

But in the same way, many of his fellow students joined in on the defense, converging on his position as well. Holly Glissendale stepped in front of Albus, her forehead shining with sweat as she dueled her hardest; her effort to protect Albus by standing in front of him was comically diminished by the fact that she was a full head shorter than he was.

Albus called over a suit of armor, which lowered its shield to block a Killing Curse coming from the side. The woman's curse blasted the shield right off of the statue, but in response it launched a throwing dagger that pierced her shoulder and rendered her arm useless.

Holly looked over at the statue's shield which had intercepted the spell. The spell meeting the shield seemed to have reminded her of something.

"Albus," said Holly breathlessly, slashing and twirling, constantly shifting her pose so that she was always between Albus and whoever the closest enemy was. She looked at him briefly with glistening eyes, before turning back to the duel. "Albus… In case I die…"

"You're not going to die, Holly!" shouted Albus, ducking a Killing Curse that soared just over his head as the suit of armor blocked another one with its chest and exploded.

Holly turned back to Albus again.

"If I die," she repeated, "I wanted you to the answer to that riddle… the riddle to the Ravenclaw door in our first year… because I never told you, and you kept asking me, and I know you wanted to know the answer and now I want you to know it, too."

"_You won't die, stop saying that, you can tell me after the fight because we're both going to make it!_"

"What happens when—"

She paused to fire a Stunner into the face of someone looking down from the second floor, and then continued. "What happens when an unstoppable spell meets an unbreakable shield…it—"

She blasted a hostile wizard off his broom and he crashed into the enemy ranks.

"The answer is—it depends—on whether the spell is more unstoppable, or the shield is more unbreakable."

Albus groaned. "That's FUCKING STUPID!"

"Just wanted you to know," said Holly quietly.

"Holly, you're NOT going to die!" yelled Albus, but she didn't seem to be paying attention. "We're all going to get out of here, we're all going to get back to Hogwarts—_are you listening? _HOLLY, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO—"

There was a deafeningly loud _crack_ right at that moment. It was loud enough for Albus to instantly know exactly what had happened.

Wilcox had appeared directly behind him.

The spell that struck him in the back of the neck was a Stunner, to incapacitate him first, since a Killing Curse would have taken longer to say. So at least he wasn't dead yet—but he knew that the Killing Curse was coming, especially as the force of Wilcox's point-blank spell blasted him so far forward that he landed right in front of the enemy line.

Lynwood Chinch, the man who had tried to sink a sword through his father's heart, was at the front of the line, and he raised his wand, leveled directly at Albus. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

And then a desperate yell from Holly: "_Juxtapos!_"

Albus knew Holly's spell. It was the Juxtaposition Spell, and it switched the locations of the user and the target.

Albus disappeared and reappeared behind his own front line; he was still Stunned, but since Holly had been standing, he was standing now as well.

And Holly was now lying on the floor in the path of Chinch's Killing curse.

No—it should have been him who was dead—why did she do this, why did she sacrifice her life for the piece of shit who led her on and broke her heart? She was so good, always such a sweet and pure person, and she didn't deserve this—he tried to Juxtapose himself back under the Curse, but he was Stunned and out of time anyway.

Time slowed down as the spell crawled through the air at her, cruelly forcing him to see every single detail; Holly was struck, her body lifted off the ground with the force of the spell. And then she collapsed, eyes slightly closed, lips slightly parted, body limp—

A spell from one of his friends or family revived him from the Stun, but he collapsed onto his knees anyway, hands bunched into trembling fists. And he knew.

It was part of the Harry Potter effect.

He couldn't avoid it.

His friends were going to die for him.

He leaned forward, pressed his forehead into the ground, and screamed.


	28. The Phoenix Anthem

_**Sorry! I thought this chapter uploaded last night and I guess it just didn't go through. Uploading this one now and the next one in an hour or so, and I'll upload the last two tonight; I'm still looking over them and tightening up the action and dialogue as much as I can to make them as good as I can make them. So, expect the last two chapters right before midnight or so, Massachusetts time. (People across the Atlantic... please don't let me keep you up, the upload will be very early in the morning for you.) See you at the finish line!**_

_**(and here's the note I initially wrote in the beginning of the chapter)**_

_**I mentioned a while back that I might, after I was finished, go through the book and edit and revise the whole series, and possibly even post an annotated version of the series with my notes and thoughts on why Andy and I made certain decisions. I still might do that, but it would have to wait a while-I'm quite burned out by this experience. It was fantastic, and I would never take it back... but while I do want to go back and do something like that, that probably won't come right away. But the Dark Revival will still be uploaded like I mentioned before. I like this universe too much to leave it completely.**_

**Andy's addition to the note: If you feel the same as Cody and you also like this universe too much to leave completely... I think you're going to be very happy when I post my update tomorrow. :)**

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

THE PHOENIX ANTHEM

O

Albus stood up slowly, and walked confidently forward.

"Albus!" cried Roxanne, grabbing his arm. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm protected," he said, wrestling free of her grip and walking straight towards the front of the lines. "Holly…"

He couldn't bear to say "died for me". Saying the words aloud made them real. But he knew what this meant: the Amivical Devoctrix had activated. No one would be able to harm him now. He had an unbreakable shield that he knew would stop even an unstoppable spell.

He stepped forward, right past their front lines, and his burning fury caused an actual aura of flame to surround him as he raised his wand on their foes.

The Propheteers, sensing that he was throwing himself into danger, rushed forward with him, and began a full-on assault; Albus, meanwhile, was casting some of the most powerful magic of his life, apart from what he had done with the Bloodblade. Most of the spells were aimed his way, but several blue Propheteers had stepped in front of him to parry the attacks. And even if they missed something, Albus was untouchable.

Once the enemy became aware of Albus's protection, or else realized that Albus's ferocity could not be matched, they turned as one, as if all receiving some internal order (which they probably were), and all of them began striking at Lily. Albus didn't think his rage could peak any higher, but the targeting of his little sister caused a reaction he never knew he could unlock, and an explosion of wandless energy decimated the enemy ranks, sending bodies flying in every direction.

From the sky, Chinch righted himself in the air, took aim, and fired a Killing Curse that flew so close to Lily, she missed death by an inch—

And suddenly, a car—an entire car, minus the roof—burst through the window of the floor above, and ran its bumper straight into Chinch, slamming him out of his hover.

"NOT MY GRANDDAUGHTER, YOU BASTARD!"

Albus had to make sure his eyes were working properly, as the car slammed Chinch directly into the wall, crushing his ribcage and leaving him wheezing on the ground, where he was easily Stunned by a shot fired out the passenger side.

It was the car that had rescued Albus and James from the forest in Albus's fourth year, and that he had seen again at the end of his sixth when he ran from Hogwarts—it was unmistakable, since the roof had been torn off by Hellhunters. He hadn't even known that the car could fly. It was being piloted by none other than Grandpa Weasley, who vaulted the side door like a young man as Grandma Weasley stepped out the passenger door. Grandpa Weasley patted the car in thanks, and then out from the back jumped several other people whom Albus's grandparents had been in hiding with—Aidan's parents, Alec's parents, Mia Moon's parents and her sisters Kalina and Mavis, Gabrielle Delacour and her daughters Renee and Talia and…

The Lombard sisters, Donna and Janelle.

Albus looked to Janelle, and she looked to him, and then a spell flew in between, snapping their gaze; they both turned to engage in combat.

The enemy's forces were scattered from the explosion that Albus had caused, and were falling back, just as Professor Desulgon sailed back into the hall on his broom. "It's time!" he shouted.

"Everyone, follow!" called Professor Longbottom; he and Professor Plinky joined with Desulgon to duel open one of the hallways, and the Propheteers formed a circle around their forces' perimeter, leaving a gap for everyone to run down the hallway unimpeded. The Hogwarts students, teachers, and parents poured through into the hallway that led under the school, where the Subterrestrial Express was kept parked. If it had been the day of the last task at Durmstrang, the train would be at Hogsmeade Station, which would have been much too far a journey for them to make without suffering heavy losses with Wilcox's Superstorm tailing them; it was a good thing it was still April.

They headed down, with the teachers and parents at the back to ensure that the students were further from harm, and the Propheteers bringing up the rear. When a Killing Curse soared dangerously close to Hugo, Rose cast a rope around the unconscious Chinch and strung him along behind her as she ran behind Hugo, with Chinch floating behind the two of them as a human shield. Her strategy worked, as the Killing Curse that soared at them next hit Chinch instead.

They all sprinted through the dungeons and past the Slytherin common room, past the wall where the tunnel to Dismiusa's chamber was. From his six years at Hogwarts, Albus knew this to be where the school kept a large amount of school-owned equipment, such as brooms, printing presses for the school newspaper, and other large items; but as Professor Longbottom opened the door to the enormous room, Albus saw that it was also where they stored the Subterrestrial Express for upkeep and repair.

The caretaker, Alpheus Boderight, was shining up the train with a rag by hand when the flood of Hogwarts people rushed in. He looked over and dropped the rag, blinking in confusion.

"We need to borrow the train!" shouted Hugo.

Boderight looked around. "Friends, you will notice that the train is _sitting in the middle of a building_ at present—"

"We'll make do," said Albus. "By the way, you should probably come with us if you want to live!"

Boderight sputtered, but he dropped his protests when he saw the teachers following the students, and knew that this was serious. Desulgon vaulted everyone and landed in front of the train; as Boderight opened the doors and the students poured in, Desulgon wrenched his arms back and forth like he was horizontally waving a giant flag. There was a rumble that turned into a roar, and the floor below the Subterrestrial Express melted into mud and then all flowed up into a corner of the room, leaving a giant pit under the train; the train, however, was hovering to allow everyone to board it easily. Desulgon continued to dig under the school, knowing that the Subterrestrial Express wouldn't be able to dig through the Hogwarts foundation but would be able to get going right away if it started under the ground. As the last Propheteers dropped back through the tunnel, Desulgon redirected the mud over to the door and it billowed through the halls, engulfing everyone who was pursuing them; he hardened the mud straight into steel, and then jumped on top of the train.

Once they had all packed inside the Subterrestrial Express, Desulgon let the train slowly descend; it hit the bottom of the ditch he'd dug, and it slowly started to drill through the ground.

He hesitated to say they were safe yet… but they were safer. They needed to get to Durmstrang and they would be within Desulgon's protection, and he trusted Desulgon's abilities.

He walked into a compartment where several of the seventh year Gryffindor boys were sitting. There were some absences.

"Is everyone here?" he asked. "Did anyone…"

Jonah shook his head. "Kolby and Eben," he said softly.

Albus's stomach recoiled; he forced himself not to feel the horror, or he would never stop feeling it.

"Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lost some too," said Jonah. "Albus… did that fight really need to happen? Did they really need to die?"

The anger creeping into Jonah's voice was understandable. From their perspective, Albus had showed up, and people had immediately started dying.

"I'm sorry," said Albus. "But people are dying everywhere. It would have reached everyone eventually."

"That's comforting," said Jonah shortly, and he leaned back in his seat with his arms folded. None of the other Gryffindor boys seemed like they could speak up even if they wanted to.

Albus left the compartment, unable to take the ambient emotion inside. He knew they had a point, but their side also desperately needed fighters, and there were very few places that they could find anyone they trusted… That stop at Hogwarts had been necessary, or there was no way they were going to be able to lay siege to the Ministry to relieve it of Wilcox's control.

Albus paced back and forth in the aisles of the train, unable to shake the confident fear that Wilcox would me able to map out their progress, teleport in front of them and dig some sort of trap. He searched through every compartment of the train, but was unable to locate his old Transfiguration teacher.

"Where's Desulgon?" he asked Alec, popping into the compartment Alec shared with Mia and their families.

"Still on top of the train, I presume," said Alec. "I didn't see him jump in with us. He wanted to stay up there to make sure that if Wilcox attacked, he could defend us properly. Or maybe he just wanted to see what it was like riding the train up there."

Albus was a little more at ease if Desulgon was on top of the train, sensing anything that was coming their way, but he wouldn't really feel much better until they arrived. He left Alec's compartment and headed back to the one in which he'd seen his family.

_Albus?_

Albus jumped nearly out of his skin when he was addressed into his mind by name. He looked around, but there was no one around. Thinking back, he only barely recognized the voice… it was the voice of Desulgon's new body.

_Hi? When did you cast the Connectivity Charm on me?_

_I don't need to anymore. Listen, are you okay? I see you pacing around down there and asking for me._

Albus laughed to himself at the extent of Desulgon's attention.

_Oh, good, you're laughing,_ came Desulgon's thought.

_You know, that's a little invasive,_ thought Albus. _It's okay—I just was worried about if Wilcox comes to intercept us…_

_I understand your worry,_ thought Desulgon. _I've set us on a randomly zigzagging path to make it more difficult, and I've cloaked us with the Illusiveil._

_We're zigzagging? It feels like we've been going straight this whole time._

_That would be due to some bending of space-time, which I'm doing to make the train ride swifter. Don't worry too much about it._

He didn't bother asking about that right now. _If Wilcox comes for me,_ thought Albus, _should I leave the train to pull him away? He and his forces can't do anything to me._

_Albus… yes, they can._

Albus shook his head, before forgetting that Desulgon wouldn't see that in a mental conversation—or, actually, he might see it, considering that he saw everything, but that wasn't the point. _I had the Amivical Devoctrix cast on me by Holly. Their spells didn't hit me._

_Their spells didn't hit you because they saw how confident and furious you were and it intimidated them, and the Propheteers took out whatever spells did still come your way. Holly didn't cast the Amivical Devoctrix on you, Albus. You could have been killed._

_How could it not have been cast?_

_It's not something that happens a lot, Albus,_ came Desulgon's thought in reply. _Otherwise it would have been more thoroughly documented. It rarely happens at all, because people are rarely in the precise situation it requires. Yes, Holly sacrificed her life for yours directly, but she did not have the full choice of certain life or certain death. She was not guaranteed survival in this fight by refusing the choice._

_I don't understand. It was a sacrifice to save my life._

_Think of it this way. You're a normal person living a normal life, and suddenly an angel comes down. The angel says that someone you know is destined to die, and you are destined to live. But you can end your life now to save them, and the life energy from your unfulfilled destiny will surround them and allow them to live. Holly was not in that position. She was in a situation where her life was already in grave peril. She was not giving up a destiny of life—she was risking death in the fight no matter what, _especially_ if you died considering that Wilcox would grow far bolder in the fight if he took you out._

_But my dad cast that spell when he went to the forest to meet Voldemort… Voldemort would have stopped at nothing to kill him if he'd run._

_Your father was tethered to life, although he didn't know it. And he knew he could have run as he had before, continue fighting from afar, and everyone in the castle would have covered for him to allow him to do it. He chose death instead of a life he very well could have preserved. Holly chose death instead of a life in immediate terrible peril. There is a clear difference—Harry gave up an endangered but distinctly salvageable life. We can't avoid every fight with Wilcox by having one of our rank throw themselves in front of a spell and make everyone else protected. That's not how it works._

_I just thought… she killed herself to save me, and would have lived if she hadn't…_

_It's not a spell that you can just cast when you feel like it. It is derived from the inextricable destinies of both souls, not from feelings of love or intention of sacrifice. It's the only Devoctrix that no one has ever cast on purpose._

Albus clenched his fists.

_So. We're headed to Durmstrang. Do you know what you want to do next?_

_Yes,_ thought Albus, _if it's something that would help. If I destroyed the Pandoran Catalyst… would it cease to provide power to whatever Devoctrices were cast through it?_

_Not all of them—but… in this case, with the Superstorm… I believe the answer would be yes._

_Yes? It would?_

_Well, you see, the Devoctrices are generally permanent, but when the power of the Devoctrix is to cast power on oneself, that power is lost when the person is gone. For example, casting a barrier that only you can cross… or becoming a Seer, which is why all of the Seers have lost their power since Draxler Cordot died. Those Devoctrices disappear when the thing that cast them is gone—usually the "thing that cast them" is a person, but it could be a Catalyst as well. The Superstorm, I assume, would follow this trend. In this case, it wouldn't be the person who cast it dying, but the Catalyst that cast it dying. It may even close the Empire if you destroy the Pandoran Catalyst. I don't know for sure; this hasn't been done yet and I don't have the time to research it. In short, yes—destroying the Catalyst should be enough to end Wilcox's Superstorm, if you're willing to risk also making the Empire disappear and getting all of its citizens spewed back onto the surface. But generally you would need a Devoctrix at least as powerful as the Catalyst you want to destroy. Do you have one of those? Because that Catalyst is going to be recharging for another couple of months, so you can't cast one with it for a while._

_Isn't the moon the most powerful Devoctrix?_

_Technically, yes. But each Catalyst in existence can only cast a few certain kinds of Devoctrix, and all of the ones you can cast with the moon are not combative Devoctrices. I used the moon to conceal my base, to see anything I want to see, and make this new body, but I used my personal Catalyst—a seashell-shaped device once belonging to an ancient wizarding clan that I found on the Isle of Drear—to do anything combative. Cordot used it to get rid of his Contagion by making himself a werewolf. But you couldn't cast the Superstorm or Dominict Devoctrix with the moon. Those require something like the Pandoran Catalyst._

Albus knitted his brow. _You used the moon to make your new body?_

_Yes, but you need an offensive Devoctrix to destroy it, something specifically with the power to destroy. The mere fact that I was created by a Devoctrix does not give me the ability to carve through a Barricant Devoctrix like the Bloodblade, or destroy a Catalyst._

Albus gasped as the earlier mention of Cordot reminded him of something extremely important.

_What? Realize something?_

He realized that there was something he'd left on the moon—which Draxler Cordot himself (or his statue, anyway) had left him.

_In the Hourglass Empire. I got something called the Kill Switch from Cordot's statue. I asked what it was supposed to "kill" and the Police Chief told me it was a switch that killed the Empire._

_Kills the Empire?_

_Maybe it just closes the Empire and that's what they took to mean it kills the Empire,_ thought Albus. _Maybe it's a switch to kill the Pandoran Catalyst! And if I open it inside the Pandoran Catalyst—that's how we can destroy it, I'm sure of it! That's why Cordot gave it to me._

_Where is it? I don't sense anything like that on your person, nor on any of your friends._

_It's on the moon. When Exo goes, can he bring that back? Tell him it's inside a false bottom in a drawer in the bedroom I was staying in._

_I'll let him know. Good thing you remembered that before we blew it up. Anything else in there?_

_No,_ thought Albus. _Everything else we needed, we took with us—we just never found out exactly what the Kill Switch did, so it sort of slipped my mind with everything else we were doing over the many months since I put it in the drawer._

_Okay. Then you're ready to head out as soon as Exo gets the Kill Switch?_

_Yes. I think some people will probably want to come with me—I'll let them know what's happening._

_I'm going to send Exo to get the Kill Switch now, and then he'll come back and deliver it right now so he doesn't have to worry about doing it while his father is scurrying around the base. And when you leave for the Catalyst, I'll come with you as well. You may need an extraction afterwards._

_Thank you._

Albus was relieved to have another plan, not only to have something active to do in the fight against Wilcox but also so that he could continue to project his leadership as his father had requested. His first priority was, of course, to do whatever it took to save the world from Wilcox, but he wanted to maintain everyone's morale, and if that meant acting the part of the Chosen One destined to defeat Wilcox, then he supposed he would have to keep that up. And who knew—maybe it was a prophecy he would end up self-fulfilling.

O

Wilcox stepped from the rocket he'd landed, with a Bubble-Head Charm spread over his entire body. He jumped over the wall into the dome, now open to the moon's surface, having been shattered. That must have been some fight that the three people up here put up against his clone… but there was no way they could have bested him. Right? And since there was no return portal anymore, nobody else would have come here, for fear of never returning…

He stepped around, taking in his surroundings. Where would his clone be? There must be some library or similar room somewhere in this base… that's where he would go if it were him here, and since the other one was a clone of him, it would make sense that that's where his clone would be as well. Cloned minds thought alike.

He looked around. Quickly, he scanned for human presence; there was none. Some sort of laser weapon… a kitchen and dining table… a chessboard. Not much in this room. He tucked into one of the rooms… just a bedroom. He slipped into another, slamming the door closed as air began to rush out; it was a room with blank walls, but he instantly knew there was something more here.

He closed his eyes and projected his mind around the room, sensing what kind of magic was used here… verbal.

"Show me the blueprint of this moon base," he said.

A diagram drew itself on the wall, and he smirked. He scanned the map; there was his name in this room. And there was his clone—

Wait—that didn't say _Helio_ Wilcox… it said _Exorian_ Wilcox.

He was standing next to a drawing of a lever that was labeled as _Self-Destruct._

He burst back out through the door, letting all the air rush out; in the vacuum of space, Exo didn't hear anything, and continued pulling the lever, then turned calmly around and jogged over to the laser cannon. He aimed a spell there, and the cannon turned to face him, about to fire—

Exo looked back and noticed his father, and thrust his middle finger out.

Wilcox's mind jumped into its highest gear, and he penetrated his son's mind easily from how many years he'd spent weakening it; he easily swam through the thoughts and saw that the laser cannon was actually the escape portal, and that this was all part of an elaborate plan to trap him here and blow him up with the base, constructed by some black-haired stranger.

He raised his wand. "_Juxtapos!_"

He would not be killed by his feeble son of all people, and the spell switched their positions—Wilcox was struck by the laser cannon, and was dissolved to head back to the surface, and left his son behind on the moon base that was about to explode—finally rid of him.

Exo's bubble popped out of surprise, and he collapsed on the ground, writhing around, gasping for air—not that it mattered, anyway, as the base was about to blow up, and he'd allowed his father to teleport right into the Subterrestrial Express, since Teddy now carried the lunar portal. He was already starting to pass out, and then he saw movement.

Before his vision clouded over, he looked to the side to see Dumbledog sit next to him—Desulgon had enhanced the mind of this dog and named him Wes, but Exo would always know him as Dumbledog, the name he'd given the dog when they first met. Dumbledog was in a dog-shaped spacesuit, and he was panting as happily as ever.

Dumbledog leaned on his hind legs and stood up on them, raising his paws in the air. He started waving his paws around, still with that silly tongue-protruding dog-grin on his face.

Exo stared in fascination as the dog's paws moved in complicated but concrete motions—_was this dog casting a—_

Suddenly, he and Dumbledog teleported out of the lunar base, right before there was a quake and a flash as the base exploded.

O

"FUCK!"

Teddy was caught completely off-guard, but thankfully so was Wilcox; Wilcox drew out his wand, but he'd appeared in a compartment with Teddy, Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Gil, Fleur, Bill, and Charlie, and he was only able to slash through three of the eight Stunners that immediately flew his way.

"Holy crap," said Dominique, grasping a hold of her hair. "Do we—er—kill him?!"

"I think we have to," said Bill, his wand still aimed at Wilcox.

But no one wanted to be the one to actually strike the killing blow…

"We've got to do it fast," said Teddy, "Swait said there's a Devoctrical method for reviving yourself from a Stunner—"

Just as he said it, Wilcox jerked back to life, and spun around to Disapparate—but Charlie grabbed hold of his leg just in time, and was dragged through the teleportation with him.

Wilcox ripped free of Charlie's grip as they landed on a frosty Siberian icescape, and he took out his wand to duel, certain that he could get the better of Charlie, being just one man—

As he cast the first Stunning Spell, though, two young dragons flew out from Charlie's jacket. One intercepted the spell, entirely unaffected, and the other flew forward and sank its teeth into Wilcox's neck—he blasted it off with a powerful hex, but the other one whipped its spiked tail into his stomach, opening up his guts. He Disapparated once again, leaving Charlie and the dragons in the icescape alone.

Charlie looked around; when he was sure Wilcox was completely gone and not just attacking from a different angle, he whistled for the dragons, which each landed on a shoulder. He scratched the underside of the Hungarian Horntail's chin as it hummed happily, and then cooed at the Mexican Cruxor, which was nursing its wound from Wilcox's spell.

"It's all right, my little mutt," he said, patting its head. "You'll recover from that pretty quickly. Plus, I think you did more damage to him than he did to you—that poison of yours doesn't have an antidote yet… I daresay it ought to slow him down for the next couple of weeks!"

O

"Refleshes," said Desulgon, his eyes closed. "There's a lot of Refleshes surrounding the area. And a lot of Wilcox's forces, too. Five dozen combined of both units, by my count."

"And the guardians of the Catalyst?" asked Albus. "Are they there—has their security been dismantled?"

"I don't sense them, if they're there," said Desulgon. "That's all I know right now."

"We can take whoever's there," said Alec.

"Not if they inform Wilcox and summon him over," said Desulgon. "Especially not if he brings the Superstorm."

Albus, Aidan, Alec, Mia, Mia's sisters Kalina and Mavis, James, Lily, Rose, Hugo, and Janelle were joined by Desulgon on the mission to the Catalyst, but Albus began to wonder if they should have brought more people.

"It's now or never," said Desulgon. "The longer we wait out in the open, the longer we risk Wilcox spotting us out in the open. What's the move?"

"Whatever the risk," said Albus, "I'm willing to take it. Let's go."

"There's sixty hostile individuals. You want to just run in and attack?"

"Just run in and attack," repeated Albus. "If they see us they'll signal Wilcox, and there's no way they won't see us, so we should just blitz it and try to get it done as fast as possible. All I need to do is slip into the Catalyst and activate the Kill Switch anyway."

"How _will_ you activate the Kill Switch, anyway?" asked Aidan.

Albus stared at it. "I'm… not actually sure," he said.

Aidan groaned.

"But Cordot gave it to me for a reason," he said. "I think I'll know how to do it when the time comes."

"That's not a _plan,_ Albus—"

Albus gripped the diamond-shaped Kill Switch in his hand, and tightened his grip on it; the Kill Switch began to glow bright purple. The purple glow began to spread all around him, like water spreading through paper in three dimensions, casting a purple glow on everything the aura enveloped; it also began to sing loudly, and its voice sounded like phoenix song.

He released it, and it stopped glowing and singing; the purple aura retracted into the egg-sized crystal.

"I think I got it," said Albus.

"Get ready to cover for Albus, everyone," said Desulgon. "We're going to get in there, hold position around the entrance to the Catalyst while Albus does his thing, and then we're going to get out of there as soon as Albus gets out of the Catalyst."

"And if I don't come out of there within five minutes," said Albus, "leave without me."

"Okay," said Janelle, grasping Albus's hand tight, "but, _come out of there._"

"I'll do everything I can," said Albus, and they shared a quick kiss.

"Hurry it up over there," yelled James.

Albus looked over after they broke away. "Come on! Louis and Gil did it, too."

"Ready?" asked Desulgon.

"No," said Albus. "I want to say it again: I'm not as important as the mission." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Remember that. As much of a symbol as I am… I'd rather go down today than bring all of you down with me."

Desulgon cocked his head towards Albus. _I don't know if that's true,_ he thought, projecting the thoughts to Albus. _Strictly speaking, you do happen to be named in a prophecy about defeating Wilcox…_

_And I'm destined to die doing it,_ said Albus. _Whether it's now or later… I made a promise to myself and the world to preserve life wherever I could, and if that's now, then maybe I won't live to see Wilcox defeated… but I'll have made sure the right people do._

Desulgon stiffened, and his face turned white with shock; this was the most terrified Albus had ever seen him. Had Albus's words affected him that much…?

No—he looked like that because he sensed something coming. There was an eruption of blue flame—the sound of a giant wingbeat—

The sapphire-and-silver royal phoenix that he had seen atop Mount Solaeris was descending on them. And without having to think very hard about it, Albus knew why… Something about the Kill Switch had called it, he was sure, based on how the Kill Switch had made a sound like phoenix song. Draxler Cordot had enchanted it to call the phoenixes to whoever used it, knowing that whenever it was activated, it would be at a time of great need.

"It's okay!" laughed Albus as most of the others apart from Alec began to cry out in fear. "It's all right—it's the ruler of all the phoenixes!"

The royal phoenix craned its head up, and let loose the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard; the phoenix anthem that it had voiced the first time it had encountered Albus. But this cry was much more prolonged; they sat and listened to the song for a full minute or more as the phoenix sang, its thirty-yard tail billowing behind it although there was no breeze, its fiery tent-sized wings keeping a slow beat.

Dozens of phoenixes burst into the air out of plumes of fire, soaring in circles overhead, joining the phoenix chorus; their cries filled the empty desert and echoed off the faraway dunes. Albus drank in the energy that he was receiving from hearing this song, and if he had ever had any doubts that he was pursuing the right path, the doubts had all vanished now.

The phoenixes dove closer to them, still spiraling in circles, and the royal phoenix nodded, as if to say, _Grab on._

"I think it wants us to take hold of a tail each," said Albus. "I don't know where we're going, but… looks like they want us to do something, and I'm not arguing with the phoenixes."

Albus gestured for them all to reach up and grab a phoenix tail; the royal phoenix gave a last ringing addition to the choir, and then vanished. As each of them caught a phoenix tail in turn, they were all transported in front of the Pandoran Catalyst.

The Refleshes were running, screaming, as phoenixes chased them with fireballs belched from their beaks; the guards Wilcox had stationed at the Catalyst were being grabbed by the phoenixes, teleported far above the ground, and dropped into the sands with screams. The door to an invisible house burst open, and Albus was ecstatic to see that Nelson and Ingot were all right—they wore hoods and had altered their facial features to avoid recognition so that they could join the fight anonymously, but Albus had spent a long time in their house and he recognized their auras; it was certainly them.

As he looked around to try and spot the seal, Albus saw a path of sand clearing in front of him. He ran through it until it led to the seal of the Catalyst, and when he landed and stood on the center, the world spun around him until he was inside.

He had no time to marvel again at the strange place he'd entered—he could do that in a memory later. He walked into the center of all the Enzymes, where he had stood to cast the Superstorm himself; although this time, all the Enzymes were still, as the Catalyst was not fully charged.

He took the Kill Switch from his pocket again, and he gripped it tightly. The purple aura began to spread throughout the room, and he knew it was working—the Enzymes were shredding into nothingness when the aura washed over them, and there was a loud ringing sound coming from within the room. He waited, patiently, as the aura spread all the way through the Catalyst, and every Enzyme was destroyed. He waited for a while longer than that, to see if anything else was happening, but even the ringing had stopped. When he let go of the Kill Switch, and the aura receded, it seemed to be over. He looked at the Kill Switch, which was still intact, but now flashing purple as to inform him that the job had been completed.

He stepped onto the seal again, and was transported back out into the desert.

"—most recent additions to the Empire came and told us that Albus was… dead… I felt… partially responsible."

He froze, because there were even more newcomers to the group than when he'd left—Phoeba Poticand, the Chief of Police in All the Hourglass Empire, was talking to Alec and Aidan and the others, with her back to Albus—she didn't realize he had returned to the surface.

"I know he and I hated each other," said Poticand, "but he was a boy who was—no, I'm sorry. He was a _young man_ who was just trying to do what he thought was right. And when you came back to the Empire to destroy the Horcrux that had been hidden there, you also destroyed the entire graveyard, including Uzu Chia's grave. I had a close relationship with her in life… she was often my voice of reason. And so as I restored the grave sites, and stared at her tombstone, I imagined what she would think of me."

There were also a great many police officers from the Hourglass Empire around them, and some of them had noticed Albus's return and were gesturing to him with their eyes, but they didn't want to interrupt Poticand. Alec was clearly trying not to laugh.

"If she had been alive when Albus returned to ask me to help lend my forces to the fight against the Man in the Shadows, I know that she inevitably would have convinced me to do it," said Poticand. "I knew when I looked at her grave that I had let her down. The flow of people into the Empire has not increased, as it usually did during times of war, but _decreased…_ and I knew it was because people were being tracked down and slaughtered at such an alarming rate that they could not even make it to the Empire. And now that it had been proven that we were interconnected with the outside, that there was indeed both an entrance and an exit… I could no longer deny to myself that we were a part of this world. I cared so much about the people already in the Empire that I failed to care about those who could be future citizens of the Empire, if they do not die under Wilcox's reign. And I don't know… I didn't seriously internalize this until after Albus was reported dead. I suppose I never saw it as real. Down in the Empire, you know… crime does not happen all that much. We don't see it, and rarely ever violent crime, since Cordot judges against those who would commit violent crimes. And so I was entirely separated from the conflict up here, until someone I knew was finally affected. Albus. And even though we rarely ever saw eye-to-eye on matters that mattered… I could no longer deny the validity of what he was trying to get me to see. I simply could not pretend that there were no consequences to my inaction. Our home had already been invaded as part of this war, and I will help to end it before that happens again. I will not be the Police Chief who sat around while my Empire collapsed. I will not be the Fudge of the Hourglass Empire. And I will not let anyone else seeking a life free from torment be murdered. That is the aim of the Hourglass Empire—to save and protect those who are seeking shelter from persecution. Today, that call brings me here, and every police officer in our land has agreed to come with me to lend our support to your war—because if the Hourglass Empire teaches us anything at all, it teaches us that we are all one species: human. And we must all work together to make our shared world a better place, to help each other not just survive, but build."

Albus began a slow clap.

Poticand turned around to face him, and she made a weird little croaking sound.

"You hadn't exactly received the latest update on my whereabouts," said Albus. "But I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

Poticand shook her head. "I should have known," she said.

Desulgon stepped forward. "We accept your help," he said. "And as a token of our gratitude, I'd like you to have this… something to remember Uzu by."

He snapped his fingers, and a small silk pouch appeared out of nowhere; he plucked it out of the air and reached inside, and pulled out a magical eye.

"It belonged to Uzu, right?" said Desulgon. "I plucked it from James after he escaped from the Empire, and I used it to design these eyes." He pointed to his eyes of his new body. "But I don't need it anymore, and it sounds like you might want to have something to remember her by."

"Thank you," said Poticand quietly. She took the pouch, and replaced the eye into it, and then cleared her throat and wiped her eyes.

She looked over to the other people in Albus's task force. "You know," she said, "any of you could have stopped me at any time during that speech to inform me that Albus was actually alive."

"And we didn't," said James happily.

"My offer stands regardless," said Poticand. "The police force in the Empire isn't incredibly large, as the crime isn't either, but you will have all of us at your command to help the world restore itself to balance."

"Thank you," said Albus. "We accept graciously."

He didn't want to rub it in—not when Poticand was actually doing something right. Dimly, he still had to wonder if there was some personal-gain sort of reason that Poticand was doing this, but as long as it was beneficial to them as well, he felt he shouldn't care about that now.

"We should get back to Durmstrang," said Desulgon. "Before Wilcox finds us here. Even if he's not Superstormed, he's very dangerous."

The phoenixes dipped down again, offering their tails. The Hourglass Empire police officers looked around, duly impressed, and Poticand seemed a little irritated to be outshone by Albus, but she swallowed her pride and grabbed a tail.

They all grabbed hold of the phoenix tails, and with their two new armies—the phoenixes and the police force of the Hourglass Empire—they touched base in Durmstrang to begin planning the assault on the Ministry.


	29. The Battle for the Ministry of Magic

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

THE BATTLE FOR THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

O

"Confirmed it for certain," said Desulgon triumphantly, after reappearing with a _crack_ in Durmstrang's High Hall, where most of their forces were gathered to eat with the disconcerted Durmstrang students. "Wilcox no longer has the power of the Superstorm. Unfortunately, there are still two of him left, but he can't clone himself for some time longer while his Catalyst recharges."

"There's still two of him?" asked Jonah, blanching. "What happened to Exo? Didn't you send him to your moon base to take out one of the clones?"

"He's all right," said Desulgon. "He blew the base, but Wilcox escaped. But my dog teleported him to my secondary lunar base, which I created as a back-up."

"Dude," said Riley, shaking his head. "It was weird enough that you lived on the moon, let alone that you had _two_ houses there and a dog that can teleport between them…"

"So Wilcox still has two clones," sighed Albus. "Perfect."

"But without his Superstorm, at least we are on somewhat even turf again," said Janelle. "Is my sister done yet?"

Desulgon sighed; he was trying to get used to the fact that he was now the person everyone went to when they had any questions about anything: "Are they planning on storming Durmstrang?" "Do they know we're here?" "How big is their army?" "Can you look in on my parents and see if they're okay?" "What's Wilcox doing right now?"

Desulgon closed his eyes to respond to Janelle's question. "Yes, she was able to recruit a good number at Beauxbatons. They're taking the chariots here and they won't be long."

"Good," said Janelle, and she set off towards the stairs so she could watch for her sister from a higher floor.

Albus looked over at Desulgon. "Hey," he said. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Internally?"

Desulgon nodded. _What's on your mind?_

_I was wondering about you,_ thought Albus. _How you couldn't cast a Patronus… I was worried what that implied._

_Oh, I know the problem. It's what I should have known to expect, honestly._

_What's the problem?_

_I don't have a true soul,_ thought Desulgon. _I'm not truly alive. There's no way to replicate that. Without a soul, I can't cast a Patronus. Or even any Devoctrices anymore, for that matter._

_What? Then how did you cast the Barricant Devoctrix here?_

_I borrowed Magnus Vintervolff's arms. Don't worry—it was consensual. But no, I'm not truly myself. Don't know if I ever will be; I don't think there's a cure for not having a soul._

_But then why are you not… an empty shell, if you don't have a soul? Isn't that what happens when people lose their souls, like to a Dementor?_

_I replicated a soul in this body, but it's definitively an artificial one. Good questions, though._

Albus sighed. _This doesn't concern you at all? Being technically soulless?_

_Hey, my actual mind has already boarded a train to the afterlife,_ thought Desulgon. _I just figure he might smile a little more from up there if his last creation can help end the war. And I seem to have wised up from my miserable experience on Earth before—I made this brain much more prone to happiness and other positive emotions. Now, maybe I'll seek out a way to restore my soul after the war—maybe I'll just shut down to save myself the existential crisis. I don't know yet, but I also don't have to worry about it yet, until after the war is over. And you shouldn't either._

_Sorry. I just…_

_I know. You care very much. And that's not a bad thing, necessarily. Just keep your focus where it needs to be. Which you've done an excellent job of so far, by the way. You've amassed quite the impressive force._

_I think it was mostly other people pulling the strings again,_ admitted Albus. _We wouldn't have gotten anywhere near this far without you… there's the stupid Propheteers… and the phoenixes were summoned because of Cordot's Kill Switch…_

_You think they would come just for a device activating? No, I'm quite certain it was because they also sensed the noble intentions of the person who activated it. And the stupid Propheteers are on your tail because you've made yourself so special that you've wormed your way into multiple prophecies. Then there's the police force of the Hourglass Empire, whose chief you successfully guilted into coming to our aid. She wouldn't have helped otherwise._

_I suppose you're right._

_I AM right,_ thought Desulgon. _I'm always right. Even when I'm soulless. Why do you think everyone's asking me to tell them who's picking their nose across the sea? And you doubt I know the obvious evidence of how effective a leader you've been for us?_

Albus smiled. _Thank you._

_They probably know now that we're planning to launch an attack on the Ministry,_ thought Desulgon. _Do you have a plan yet?_

_The advice is appreciated,_ thought Albus._ The family and I decided that we'll be briefing everyone tonight on the plan of attack, and striking tomorrow morning. Shouldn't you have known that already?_

_I did,_ thought Desulgon, grinning. _I just assumed it was more polite to ask._

O

The sun began to rise slowly above the sea overlooked by Durmstrang castle. It reflected asymmetrically off the tossing waves in the restless sea.

The phoenix army descended in front of them, tails wafting beautifully in the breeze, and the people standing on the shore made their final preparations—downing Acropotentia potions, unsheathing one or two wands, stretching their wand arms, casting defensive enchantments in anticipation of heavy fire.

"On three, the first wave, and the second wave should be ready to grab the phoenixes as soon as they drop off the first wave and reappear here," said Albus. "Ready? One… Two…" He swallowed a lump in his throat in the small space of time he had between the last couple of numbers. "Three!"

The first wave vanished in front of him, and Albus hated that he wasn't a part of it but was also very much aware that he would be relentlessly targeted if he had been a part of the first wave. The people in the second wave stepped forward waiting nervously but with determination. Teachers, students, parents, Propheteers, from Hogwarts, from Beauxbatons, from Durmstrang, all united against the threat of Wilcox. So many pieces had come together at the end, with the phoenixes, the Propheteers, the police force, and Desulgon… any of those groups would have made this so much more difficult and risky if they were missing from the equation. Something told him that fate, or Cordot, or someone, wasn't done pulling the strings just yet… but at least it wasn't the Marionette's Medicine pulling the strings.

The phoenixes reappeared seconds later to fetch the next wave of fighters. The third wave stepped forward when the second vanished, and with the way people were waiting in rows, Albus was reminded strongly of the lines for the Adelina Nelson Day carnival rides. He knew, but suppressed the knowledge, that his brain was just grasping at this point to think about things that didn't involve murder. The third wave of fighters Disapparated with the phoenixes, with a hundred or more of them having already been carried into the Ministry. Harry and the rest of Albus's family were bringing up the rear, and—

Albus stiffened as he caught a very particular scent.

It wasn't the kind of scent he would pick up from his nose.

Desulgon had been masking this Scent with his overwhelming smell of the Devoctrices, but now that he was gone, Albus's attention was refocused to the next most powerful object he could sense… what was Albus smelling here? Was there something at Durmstrang…? He tried to figure out the direction it was coming from, as the lines kept moving. His family stepped forward, and he noticed it move with them—

He glanced over at his father. The smell was coming from him.

There was only one Devoctrix he knew his father to carry.

Albus ran over to his father and stepped directly in front of him. "Dad," he whispered, eyes wide. "You didn't… Did you bring…"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Did you bring the Elder Wand?" asked Albus quietly so that no one else could hear.

Harry grabbed the sleeve of Albus's robe and dragged him off to the side. He looked Albus in the eye. "Albus… how did you know that?"

"I smelled it," said Albus. "Dad, these are the Devoctrices—they aren't exactly subtle. If I can catch the Scent of the Elder Wand, so can Wilcox!"

"You didn't sense it until now," said Harry, but he was half talking to himself. "It will be a distracting scenario—with Desulgon and the Propheteers and the guardians of the Catalyst there, and with the Department of Mysteries below, those will conceal whatever smell you're talking about, those are much stronger…" He growled under his breath. "Albus… I am going into battle right now with everyone I love… and I have to do whatever I can to protect them. And if I lose the Elder Wand—worse things have happened. The worst that Wilcox does is irrelevant to wands anyway."

"I understand," said Albus. "Just know that Wilcox is going to try and snatch that from you in any way possible, _except_ by directly confronting you. He's not going to try to duel you outright if he knows you have the Elder Wand."

"I know," said Harry. "But the reason I didn't tell anyone else is because I don't want anyone thinking it, if he picks up on their thoughts. I want it to take him by surprise. I'll use my normal wand all the way—and if I have an opportunity to use the Elder Wand on him, I'll take it out and catch him by surprise. Otherwise… we'll try to do it the old-fashioned way. But the important thing is, whichever way it unfolds… we'll win."

"Boys!" shouted Ginny. "We're the last wave! The phoenixes have been waiting on us; come on!"

"You be careful, too," said Harry, giving Albus the same look that Albus had just given his father. "The same warning you gave me also goes for you."

And they grabbed the phoenixes next.

They landed in an utter whirlwind; there were hundreds of Ministry officials fighting back, and there were hundreds of their army fighting through. Albus's forces could not tell who was Imperiused, who was under MM, and who was clean, and the MM-indicating gas would be able to tell if someone was under MM but not _who,_ so they would have still been in the dark anyway. The only recourse was to test everyone. Thankfully, the antidote to MM didn't just snap the hold of that potion—it also freed minds from the Imperius Curse.

Albus watched their plans work beautifully in action just the way he'd hoped they would work when they set out. Widespread use of the Vitiation Charm once again stopped any chance of reviving anyone from the Stuns. Their invading army was greatly outnumbering the Ministry officials who were on this floor, so they were quickly Stunning every official in the room. When the Stunning was over on the entry-level floor, several designated "curers" with the MM antidote would cast bubbles the potions down everyone's mouths; but since they also didn't know who was simply working for Wilcox of their own accord, the phoenixes would teleport the fallen Ministry officials to Durmstrang, where a few of the underage Durmstrang students had stayed to revive and re-Stun them, which prevented them from becoming revived if the person who Stunned them was killed. The conveyor belt formula moved along swiftly through the first two floors, and then the siege met the full force of the Ministry.

Aurors and lawyers, Obliviators and Unspeakables rushed to the third floor to meet the Potter-Weasley army and defend the Ministry. They weren't just muscles, either, they were working strategies to counter the invading army. Desulgon was striking down everyone he faced one by one, at a much faster rate than anyone else, so they sent half a dozen of the best Aurors to meet him specifically, and many of the other Aurors targeted the weaker fighters in their group to try and reduce their enemy's morale and weaken their numbers quicker. Albus cast some defensive charms to protect them—among others, one that absorbed the power of missed spells and converted them into a shield that slowed the jets of spells headed in their direction. He saw that Jonah was able to duck a Killing Curse that might otherwise have struck him, and Jonah nodded to him in thanks.

Lily was casting out Diwand spells like a practiced routine, a roaring Frostflame fire chasing down their enemies and consuming the furniture and structures that they were hiding behind. She flicked her wand to knock open a nearby door, and cast a spell that curved sharply to the right into the room and exploded; there was a shout and a wizard came running out, but Lily's Stunner struck him in the thigh and he fell to the floor.

James threw a water balloon onto the stairs of the fourth floor, setting off one of the Wetless Waves that he'd invented during his fourth year—a gigantic wave roared from the balloon and crashed down the stairs, sending anyone who was running up the stairs tumbling back down them. His tongue was slightly protruding from his mouth in concentration as he jabbed his wand at an Auror who'd come too close, and the top shelf of a set of filing cabinets next to the Auror popped open, crashing into the side of his head and sending him toppling right onto the Stunner that James cast beside him next.

Victoire and Teddy were back-to-back, covering each other's weaknesses and amplifying each other's strengths. Each held a second wand and were using it to channel magic into the back of the other's first wand, strengthening their strikes such that their Stunner spells flew further and were harder to Dissipate; one Obliviator who obviously wasn't used to dueling tried to counter with a Stunner of his own, but Victoire's sliced straight through his spell like a Severing Charm through parchment and impaled him in the stomach, whereupon he keeled forward until his face was horizontal to the floor and the two met in a crunch.

Dominique was catching spells with her wand and throwing them back like she was playing tennis. She whirled like a dancer but struck like a masterful archer. She ducked out of the way as a Killing Curse soared by that she could not catch, but even as she contorted her body to avoid it she stuck out her wand to grab hold of a Body-Bind that sailed by and fling it back at the person who'd cast the Killing Curse; he only barely Dissipated it but was then immediately struck down by two stunners from Dominique's brother and his boyfriend.

Louis and Gil were timing almost all of their strikes with precision so that every spell they used was fired out at exactly the same time, making it extremely difficult for each of their targets to defend against both jets every time. They also seemed to be very in tune with how the Aurors dueled, having been a part of the Auror Office until recently, and never even looked close to being struck.

Molly Weasley didn't need any specific strategy—she was overpowering everyone she fought, lining them up and knocking them down like she was just in a practice session. She might have been able to take out the whole Ministry, if they were coming at her one at a time; they began to learn she was a greater threat, and three Aurors came out to meet her. Lucy joined forces with her, standing behind Molly and adding a defensive perimeter to Molly's position to assist her in the unfair fight; Lucy, Albus knew, was better with defensive spells, and she proved it. In just a few seconds, even the Killing Curses they sent were nullified to the point that Lucy could throw a trash can lid in front of them and they barely dented the lid. Meanwhile, now uninhibited by their pitiful assaults, Molly's offensive spellwork launched into full stride; she knocked the three Aurors down like dominos by a mere minute later.

Albus had never seen Freddie duel, and it didn't seem to be his area of comfort, but he was thoroughly enjoying his job as curer. "You're welcome!" he shouted to a witch he slipped the cure to, and he called over a phoenix to take them away so that they wouldn't be revived and reused by the other side. "You're welcome!" he shouted to the next wizard. A woman descended upon Freddie with three quick flashes of spells, and he tried to parry them but gave a yelp and was knocked to the ground, motionless—then, as the woman ran by him to fight the next person in line, Freddie calmly stood up behind her, having faked his incapacitation, and Stunned her in the back. He ran by her to get to a safer area, and enchanted another bubble of the MM cure to squeeze between her lips. "You're welcome!"

Roxanne led a unit up in the air on brooms; her boyfriend Frankie was in front, with several chairs and tables orbiting him. Albus wasn't sure what to make of this, until he saw a green jet of a spell fly in their direction, and Frankie intercepted it with a chair, which blasted into many pieces. Frankie caught all of the pieces out of the air and repaired them into the same chair, to intercept the next spell. Roxanne every so often would sense a momentary break in the spells that were aimed upwards at them, and she sailed out overhead, casting Stunners directly downwards that were very difficult to defend, before zigzagging back to her position. She dodged the spells as easily as she dodged Bludgers.

Rose had never been the calmest person in the face of tribulation, but you never would have known it looking at her now. Her face was serene, her arm steady, her power and precision overwhelming. She might even have defeated Lucas in the tournament, dueling this way. She cast a Disarming Charm that she arced like a curveball, that slapped a wand right out of the hands of an Auror; Aidan was dueling next to her, and with a slash and a yank from Aidan's wand, the Auror was pulled by her neck past their front lines and into the center of their forces, where she was stunned by half a dozen different fighters. Freddie trotted over and slipped her the MM cure. "You're welcome!"

And Hugo—he looked like a different person entirely. He was a natural, firing off Stunners in every forward direction at a rate Albus had never even fathomed. When the situation called for it, he altered his strategy, and with blasts of brilliant ice-based magical combinations, he was freezing opponents' arms to their chests and feet to the floor and relieving them of their wands like it was his job, despite that he was barely sixteen years old and that he was fighting against people whose job _was_ to do this sort of thing.

"Holy SHIT!" cried James, and he narrowly parried a Dark curse headed in his direction. "That wasn't—DAD! Situation's changed!"

"Explain swiftly!" yelled Harry back to James.

"It's Barry—and his family!"

"What?!" yelled Frankie, who was not just Roxanne's boyfriend but also Barry Dunbar's brother. James Stunned Barry safely and chivvied him backwards for Freddie and the other Curers, but he was still fighting the rest of Barry's family.

"They weren't Imperiused two days ago," said James. "I was still corresponding with him up until then. And they definitely don't work at the Ministry!"

"Plainclothes civilians everywhere!" cried Uncle Percy. "Harry, these aren't Ministry workers!"

In the thick of the fight, Albus had barely even noticed that many of the people coming at them now were in regular clothing, in Muggle shirt and pants or robes that witches and wizards normally wore when relaxing at home. Nor had he noticed that they had not descended to the next floor in a very long time; the fighters just kept coming.

"My God," whispered Harry. "It's everyone Wilcox has ever Imperiused or cast the Marionette's Medicine on. He's throwing _everything_ at us."

"But Dad, Barry was _not_ Imperiused, even on Monday," protested James.

"I think that can only mean one thing," said Uncle Ron, awkwardly ducking a Stunner spell but firing back a direct hit in return. "Wilcox is Apparating all around the country, Imperiusing everyone he can and teleporting them here, adding more fighters to his ranks exactly as fast as we knock them down!"

"He knows this is our last stand, that we've gathered nearly everyone that we could," said Aunt Hermione. "And we're losing people—slowly, but most surely, we are losing people. He's going to keep Imperiusing more wizards and sending them to fight us until our forces trickle down to nothing!"

"I'll try to stop him!" cried Desulgon, and he vanished without need of a phoenix.

"Don't cure anyone in plainclothes—they're only Imperiused, and we don't have enough cure for everyone Imperiused!" called Ginny loudly for everyone in their ranks to hear. "We'll have to save the cure for the Ministry workers and other important people. Just Stun them. Someone should head back to Durmstrang with a phoenix to give them the update—the people who come by may still be Imperiused, so don't let your guard down! We can't let one subdued fighter escape Durmstrang, or they could revive everyone and we'd have to start all over again!"

"DAD!" yelled Lily. "SITUATION CHANGING AGAIN!"

Wilcox had apparently moved on to a different country—a great number of African witches and wizards were now pouring from the stairwell. Shortly after that was a wave of Asian men and women, and then Hispanic fighters—Wilcox was moving around the world at random to throw off Desulgon, Imperiusing literally any wizards he could find and throwing them at the Potter-Weasley army. How could they defeat this army without having to fight _every single wizard in the world?_

Alec's voice rang out by Albus's ear. "Desulgon and I made a secret weapon!" he shouted. "He told me to keep it a secret so we could take the enemy by surprise, and only to use it when the situation got really serious—I'd say it just did, what do you think?"

"Go for it!" urged Albus.

Alec opened up his pack, and out soared ten brown, slender, winged sticklike objects—bowtruckles? No, they were—winged _wands,_ wands detached from an owner which were flying around the room on their own.

Alec leveled his wand as Albus kept himself in the fight but kept a curious eye on Alec. "_Stupefy!_" yelled Alec.

Ten additional bangs and flashes: Alec's old idea of Quantum Qualicy—cloning a wand so that one wand would perform a spell whenever the original did—was in full force here as he and Desulgon had apparently used Desulgon's Catalyst to create ten copies of Alec's wand, which fired Stunners into the crowd of Imperiused fighters, all at the same time. The wands were flying about the stadium; with minds of their own, they were targeting the enemy combatants and neutralizing with extreme prejudice. And they were damn near impossible to see from above, with their slim bodies and clear wings, and even more impossible for the fighters to hit.

A broom clattered beside Albus, and as if distantly, he saw its prior occupant hit the ground beside the broom, bleeding out of where she used to have an arm; Albus recalled the severity of their situation, and he set himself back into dueling his hardest.

Aidan rushed towards Albus, pointing back. "Albus, Wilcox is here!" he said as he pointed back. "I just saw him—"

Albus's mouth dried up instantly "Where—?" Albus looked around, and tapped into the auras of the surrounding fighters, reading around for Wilcox—

And he noticed a particularly dark aura in the room, but it was coming from right next to him—

_Stupefy!_ he thought, and whirled around to jam his wand under Aidan's throat.

Aidan threw his head backwards, out of the way of the spell, and vanished into thin air—it had been Wilcox, trying to get close enough to Albus to end him without need of a duel.

Albus raised his wand. "_Invocto Patronum!_" he announced, making use of Adelina Nelson's new Patronus incantation, and a dazzlingly bright coyote burst into the scene, running to the front lines and growling menacingly at their foes. "It's me—I think that was one of the Wilcoxes! Spread the word, he's trying to impersonate!"

"Harry!" yelled Ginny. "Albus says Wilcox is trying to impersonate people, be wary!"

"Albus is over here!" shouted Harry back, and then he internalized what Ginny had said.

Harry was abruptly launched straight up into the air, and then thrown backwards through an open door, which slammed and sealed; but Wilcox had carefully removed something from Harry's robes beforehand.

Wilcox held the Elder Wand high, laughing triumphantly.


	30. The Abyssal Vortex

_**I'M SO SORRY. I FELL ASLEEP BEFORE I UPLOADED. I'M THE FUCKING WORST.**_

_**Really, though, I apologize, I feel really shitty if I kept anyone up last night waiting. I can only hope it's worth the wait.**_

_**Also, for those of you who read Chapter 28 before these last two chapters were uploaded and were wondering why the heck Albus had suddenly been a UConn student for six years... sorry about that! It's an ongoing thing Andy and I do. I send him the chapters, he proofreads and sends me back a file with some corrections and notes, and I read it over once more before I post it (generally). Sometimes, knowing I'm still going to read the chapter again, he'll change a word or sentence or literally add an entire paragraph, changing something in the story into something funny just to see if I'll notice before I upload it. (Andy goes to UConn.) I honestly am surprised I haven't let any get by up until that point, but it was probably a good habit because he made me read really closely to make sure none of my students transferred to American Muggle colleges or anything like that. Except I kind of missed that one. :) Well, you can't always be perfect.**_

_**Now, without further sleep... Here are the last two chapters of Book 7.**_

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE ABYSSAL VORTEX

O

"You thought I wouldn't sniff this out on you?" cackled Wilcox, and he vanished, reappearing in the back ranks of his fighters.

"No!" cried Albus, and his Patronus let loose an angry snarl; Ginny ran towards the room where Harry had been locked and burst through the wall to get him back in the fight. If there was one thing almost as bad as Wilcox having control of the Superstorm Devoctrix, it was Wilcox having control of the Dominict Devoctrix, the Devoctrix of overpowering your enemies. That was not something they could survive Wilcox maintaining for very long.

Wilcox wanted to use the wand in this fight to increase his odds even more, but at least that meant he was present and vulnerable for them to possibly take the wand back. Albus watched as he raised his wand into the air, and cast off a spell that filled the room with a sickly green light.

"You're welcome!" came Freddie's shout, unaware of what just happened. "You're w—wait a second! Guys, the phoenixes aren't Disapparating!"

"_Rennerventer!_" roared Wilcox from the back, whipping the Elder Wand around in a circle; a pulse of blue-violet light filled the room, and suddenly everyone who had been Stunned jumped to their feet. Albus's Vitiation Charm could not hold back the alternate reviving charm, cast with the Elder Wand.

"Oh, crap," gulped Freddie as he engaged in a duel with the person whom the phoenix had tried to Disapparate. Five of the phoenixes, sensing that their Apparition skills were no longer available, soared at Wilcox, belching flame at him; a few shields and a few well-placed Killing Curses later, the phoenixes burst apart in fireworks and ash, and dropped to the ground as baby phoenixes again. Several of them were summarily trampled by the enemy forces, their small necks snapping as they burst apart in flame again and another new chick appeared in their places. Wilcox next slashed a wand through the air, and a burst of flame enveloped the space several feet below the ceiling, burning Alec's Quantum Qualicy wands to a crisp.

The Potter-Weasley army had successfully re-Stunned the fighters that they had conquered earlier, but Wilcox revived them once more. And while not even phoenixes could Disapparate from the Ministry after Wilcox's spell, there were still Apparitions _into_ the Ministry, from more people that the other Wilcox clone was undoubtedly brainwashing.

Albus was watching everything fall apart around him—how would they finish the fight? These were innocent civilians Wilcox was brainwashing; they couldn't be Stunned as Wilcox would just revive them. What was more important—the lives of the people here, or the risk that they might lose this battle if they didn't fight to kill?

"What's the plan, Albus?" seethed Poticand through her teeth as she battled her way over to him.

But while he was deciding, Obydin Auchland emerged from the enemy ranks.

There was no one Auchland hated more than the Potters and the Weasleys, and this was finally his chance to take out his frustrations in full. He raised his wand, eyeing the youngest exposed member of the family: Rose.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he said, aiming his spell directly at Helio Wilcox.

For a moment, for one wonderful moment, Albus thought Auchland was betraying Wilcox—but then Wilcox nodded, transformed himself into an image of Rose, and aimed his wand at her. "_Juxtapos!_"

"ROSE!" screamed Albus, the only one who saw and heard it all to understand what had just happened, and instinctively, he sent his Patronus out to intercept the spell—Nelson had said it could nullify the Killing Curse, but only if it reached her in time—

The Patronus and the curse were almost simultaneous. Rose contorted in a gruesome way, and struck the floor, and Albus did not know whether she was Petrified… or…

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOO!_"

Albus wasn't the only one who had seen—the anguished shout came from Hugo, and as Hugo unleashed a tempest of furious spells, he ran over to assist his little cousin, whose rage was taking over his judgment—Hugo was charging straight at Wilcox. James and Lily caught sight and pursued as well to protect their cousin and their brother, and then they were followed by Harry, Ginny, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione, all with their sights set only upon Wilcox.

Wilcox laughed and directed his wand at the newcomer. "_Avada—_"

Hugo jutted his chin up, and Wilcox's arm was encased in ice before he could finish the spell, and then Hugo flung his arm out and two large, knife-sharp icicles flew right at Wilcox's eyes; Hugo's fury was burning like Frostflame with his ice affinity.

Wilcox shattered the ice on his arm and slashed through the icicles, and aimed his wand at Hugo again—but then he saw Albus charging his way as well, with all of the Propheteers swarming around him for protection since they sensed he was again throwing himself into danger too far prior to his true expiration date—he leapt into the air like the coward he truly was, and disappeared down the stairwell.

Having been his closest yet to Wilcox, Albus noticed something that he hadn't seen before—Uncle Charlie had said that one of his dragons had poisoned Wilcox, and the Wilcox with the Elder Wand had green tinges to his veins, and looked like his reactions were actually slowed from their usual speed.

"Let's go!" cried Albus to all of the Propheteers, and Albus sent pulse after pulse of wandless energy to clear a path through the ranks; two Propheteers on either side of him were struck with Killing Curses as he and Hugo sprinted through, but he kept in hot pursuit of Wilcox. On the way, he passed Rose's body—

He cast _Homenum Revelio_, and a gray halo hovered above her head.

"She's only Petrified!" exclaimed Albus. "The Patronus worked—"

Another pulse from Wilcox on the floor below revived all of the Stunned warriors again, but there was an unintended effect—Rose was revived _even from Petrification_ by the absurdly powerful Elder Wand's spell. She jumped up and clutched her chest, but followed her family down.

They stopped to duel; Wilcox was nowhere to be seen in this room, but a dozen fighters had emerged from the next stairwell. Wilcox was still bringing in fighters… which meant…

"The powerful Anti-Disapparition Jinx must not stretch throughout the whole Ministry," said Rose after they had dueled down their challengers. "Otherwise the Wilcox clone couldn't keep bringing in more people and then leaving again to get more! There must be somewhere that the phoenixes can still Apparate!"

"I'll Connect that information to Teddy!" said Harry. "If we can find the place that's not touched by that spell, we can use it to move people out with the phoenixes again!"

They pursued Wilcox further down, but Wilcox's forces from the floor above were now headed down the stairs to pursue them as well; he knew he couldn't fight Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and their kids all at the same time, even with the Elder Wand. The crew cast shields behind them as they descended further down the Ministry.

Down, down, the fight took them, all the way past the Department of Mysteries and into the courtroom on the lowest floor, where one of the Wilcoxes was Apparating in and out, bringing in more Imperiused witches and wizards every time. Albus stayed in front of the group, because he knew the Propheteers were staying in front of him; the losses that their group suffered were mostly taken by the Propheteers instead of his family; in his opinion, the fewer of the Propheteers that were left after the fight, the better.

When Wilcox saw that they had tracked him down to this floor, he snarled and cast out another powerful Anti-Disapparition Jinx to stop them from teleporting his fighters out with the phoenixes—but that also prevented his clone from bringing in any more fighters, and both Wilcoxes were now backed into this corner. If the siege kept up the way it had gone so far, eventually he would have to release the Anti-Disapparition Jinx and flee, or else get subdued by the incoming army.

Right before the Anti-Disapparition Jinx was cast on their new battlefield, Desulgon had disappeared, and Albus began to sweat, wondering where he had gone. His absence was already missed—

He got his answer when Desulgon reappeared into the battlefield; he couldn't Disapparate again, but he could Apparate in. And he was carrying none other than Lucas Lotor—and his parents, both internationally acclaimed duelists.

"Things got a little messy when I left, eh?" asked Lucas, grinning widely as he extracted his wand with a flourish and set himself immediately into an impressive combination of spellwork. "You miss me?"

Both Wilcoxes still stayed in the back, surrounded by their mind-controlled army… and people had accused _Albus_ of letting others die for him. Then again, Albus couldn't really be the judge of that, with the Propheteers all around him.

Harry, Ginny, Charlie, and Teddy had risen up on brooms and were targeting their spellwork specifically at the Wilcox who held the Elder Wand, trying to win it back for their side. Albus kept an eye on their efforts, and he saw that Wilcox, normally so strong in a duel, was bending under the pressure; he looked like to give, he was straining. Was it the dragon's poison? It must have been. The Wilcox Albus knew would not have blinked even facing all four people who were up on the brooms. The Wilcox with the Elder Wand turned to his healthier companion. "Help me!" he growled.

The other clone raised his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

And right before he finished the incantation, he whirled his wand around and directed it straight at the Wilcox with the Elder Wand.

That Wilcox clone dropped to the ground instantly, and in shock, the four broom riders who had been attacking Wilcox seized up with horror at what had just transpired.

The remaining Wilcox snatched up the Elder Wand from his clone's corpse, and Albus knew why: He knew that the other Wilcox was weakened, and was a liability to lose the Elder Wand. Rather than risk it… he'd chosen to kill his clone and take the Elder Wand for himself, since that clone could make better use of it and was less likely to lose it.

"Fuck this," said a tremulous voice from the back. "_Fuck this shit!_"

Auchland broke off his rematch duel with Professor Longbottom after noticing what Wilcox had just done. He turned and Disapparated out of the Ministry.

_The Anti-Disapparition Jinx is gone!_ thought Albus excitedly, and then the remaining Wilcox clone vanished as well, and they knew the Ministry battle was won—all that was left was to subdue the remaining fighters.

But many of the fighters here had been Imperiused by the Wilcox that was now dead, and so they woke from their enchantments, rubbing their heads. Some seemed entirely in their senses, moaning when they realized that they had been forced to try and kill people, with some of them having succeeded; others lay on the ground to rest and recover their addled brains. The remaining Imperiused minds were a much smaller population to deal with, and they were engaged quickly, falling fast—

"_No!_" came Desulgon's shout out of nowhere, startling everyone. "He set off a—"

He didn't finish his sentence as there was an enormous rumble from below, and then the ground exploded under all of their feet.

Albus was flying through the air, the flames of the explosion hot on his legs and back, but something incredible was happening in the time it took for him to take a breath in advance of a scream: The phoenixes were absorbing the fire. Beating the explosion down with rapid thrusts of their wings and tails, and sucking the excess flame down their throats, they suppressed the explosion to such an extent that the injuries suffered by their crew were minor at most—just fractures from being launched into the air and landing in the pit where the ground used to be. Some people still rose up to continue fighting, but that last leg of the fight did not last very long at all. They Stunned every stranger there, just to be sure nobody was faking the lifting of the Imperius Curse to catch them by surprise, and the phoenixes began teleporting them away again.

"That bloody _coward,_" seethed Uncle Ron, looking around at the damage in the courtroom from the explosion meant to kill everyone inside. He marched over to Desulgon. "Where is he now? Do you know?"

Desulgon nodded. "He's in…" He seemed surprised. "He's in Hogwarts. I don't understand, why would he… he's in front of the Room of Requirement. But that's so strange, I thought it was…" Desulgon closed his eyes. "Strange again. He's vanished out of my sight. Stepped into the Room of Requirement."

"It was just a blank, charred room," said Harry, wearing a look of confusion that was shared by many. "I don't understand… why would he need to go there?"

"I don't know," said Desulgon, "but he definitely went in, and he hasn't come out. And from what I can tell, that doorway is sealed ridiculously tight. No one can get in that way except for him."

"Albus?" asked James. "Do you know why he would have gone in there?"

"What—why would I know?"

"Well, you opened the Room of Requirement too," said James. "And you seem to guess this kind of stuff pretty accurately. Do you have any thoughts?"

Albus shook his head; this would definitely be marked black for "unsolved mystery" on Aidan's web of notes.

He tapped his memory of the web, wondering if there were any unsolved mysteries that had come to light. One in particular came to mind.

_The Vortex._

Albus sat down in one of the few intact seats of the courtroom and set himself into deep thought. What had he read in Desulgon's base about this—what was the Abyssal Vortex? Desulgon had referred to it as the source of all Devoctrices…

"The Abyssal Vortex," he said, looking over to Desulgon. He knew that somehow, this last mystery, this final secret, was connected somehow to what Wilcox was doing right now in the Room of Requirement. Because when Albus had first heard of the "Vortex", it had been in the Mirror of Erised. When the world inside the mirror had started to crumble, when the outer shell peeled off, the mirror-people had shouted "The Vortex!" and seemed somewhat frightened about the violet-black aura that was revealed behind the ceiling. And the Mirror of Erised and the Room of Requirement—did they share a common Devoctrix, the Paracosmic Devoctrix? And both had been thoroughly damaged: the Mirror by Albus's escape attempt, and the Room of Requirement by Fiendfyre.

"What about it?" asked Desulgon, intrigued.

"What is it?" asked Albus.

Desulgon sat beside Albus. "The Abyssal Vortex," he said, "is an interesting conundrum of mine. One of those legends that sounds like it could be truth, but wasn't a poignant enough tale for people to care about passing it on, and so the stories faded and were warped over time.

"They say the inventor Adexre ended up in a strange purple ocean after a Vanishing Cabinet accident. He named this place the Abyssal Vortex, because he saw his friends who had died in a shipwreck, and they navigated him safely through the ocean until he crawled out of the Vanishing Point in Japan. Several other sources cite the Abyssal Vortex as a second realm, a place where magic, knowledge, and spirits are physical things, and bodies, objects, and matter are intangible. Still others have different ideas but I don't put as much stock into the others. Personally, I think that the Abyssal Vortex could be the source of all Devoctrices—the fount of power from which you draw to cast one of them. Is this connected to why Wilcox went into the Room of Requirement?"

"I think so," said Albus. "When I was in the Mirror of Erised, the people inside the mirror pointed up as the mirror-world began to crumble, and there was a purple aura where the pieces of the mirror-world's ceiling were falling away."

Desulgon leaned closer. "Go on."

"Well… the Mirror was Paracosmic, right?" he asked. "So… maybe if Wilcox went into the Room of Requirement after I unlocked it, and he peeled away the outer layer of the Room of Requirement…"

"By Merlin, Albus, you've got it," said Desulgon, his eyes ablaze. "Go on. Did I cut you off? Keep going. By all means."

"Let me think if there's anything else…"

Albus recalled the anecdote that Draco had relayed to him shortly before they had headed to Hogwarts.

_He took me into the cave, and told me to listen closely, and to definitely never touch the water. We moved to the back, where there was a waterfall, and he parted the water. Behind it was this strange, violet-black void… it talked directly into my head. It was so painful. I couldn't have stood more than a minute in there. The voice told me I was critically important. That I had to be a part of the fight or the fight was lost. I had visions—I saw you, and your father. I saw myself pushing them away and I saw the world, including my own family, go up in flames. I wanted to forget it, but some sense within my body, some natural instinct told me that I was seeing the unfiltered truth of what would happen if I made the wrong decision._

"Draco," said Albus. "Draco Malfoy! We need him here."

Harry looked at Ron; they shrugged, but Harry Disapparated to fetch Draco, who hadn't been cozy with the idea of storming the Ministry and had stayed behind with his son.

"That's how Wilcox knows so much," said Albus. "That's how he predicted I was coming for Lucy. That's how he did everything!"

"What, Draco Malfoy?" asked Uncle Ron, genuinely baffled.

"No," said Albus. "The Abyssal Vortex. Wilcox found it. But I think I can find another way in."

Harry reappeared into the courtroom with Draco, who was not looking pleased, and Scorpius, who looked indifferent.

Draco looked around at the devastation. "Goodness. Glad I missed _that._ Potter, can you save anything without nearly destroying it in the process?"

"Apparently not," said Albus and Harry in unison. They looked at each other and smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What service did you need of me, so I can give it to you as soon as possible and stop giving it to you as soon as possible?"

"That purple void you visited," said Albus.

Draco sighed, and stepped over to Albus. "Right… I shouldn't forget that I'm apparently 'needed' in this war."

"Cut the attitude, Dad," said Scorpius. "Look around… there are a lot of bodies around here. You could have been here to maybe make that less. But you have the opportunity to maybe help a bit now, so since you were too afraid to take the first opportunity, maybe this one will make up for it."

Albus nodded his thanks to Scorpius, who nodded back, and he turned back to Draco. "Can you tell me more about the cave?" he asked. "Describe it in detail?"

Draco frowned. "It was just a cave in the middle of nowhere."

"Any clue? How about the surrounding vegetation?" asked Desulgon.

Draco scowled. "Who the hell gets teleported into a cave by a total stranger who duels him down and forces him into a strange alternate dimension that barrages his mind, and thinks, hm, I ought to check out the surrounding vegetation?" He shook his head. "And who the bloody hell are you, anyway?"

"Not relevant," said Desulgon. "Pardon my intrusion, but mind if I have a peek? No pun intended?"

"He sounds like Desulgon," observed Scorpius, chuckling.

Draco shrugged. "Whatever gets me out of here faster. As I've said many times, I don't fancy being seen with you."

Desulgon placed two fingers on the back of Draco's neck, and both men's eyes rolled up in their sockets. Desulgon removed the fingers a few minutes later, and Draco shook his head to clear it.

Desulgon looked over at Harry. "You've been to the Vanishing Point, right?"

Harry started. "Oh—once. During the Dark Revival. Yes. Why, was that the cave you think Draco was brought to? It was destroyed in a battle that took place there."

"You tell me," said Desulgon, and placed his fingers on Harry's neck next. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, receiving Draco's memory, and when they released, Harry nodded.

"That's impossible," said Harry. "I mean… this place looks entirely underground and the Vanishing Point was open to the air. But this place looked so similar… Did the Vanishing Point repair itself under the ground somehow?"

"Either that, or it wasn't the only Vanishing Point," said Desulgon. "Let me scan the world in a quick search and I'll get back to you."

Draco looked at him inquisitively.

"Give me a second," said Desulgon, and he leapt with poise onto the courtroom floor, lying down on his back. "Just wake me if anything weird happens."

"It just did," muttered Draco, looking at Desulgon and arching an eyebrow as Desulgon's eyes closed.

"You think this Abyssal Vortex is a source of power, knowledge, or both?" asked Aidan, who had been tuning in to the conversation.

"I don't know," said Albus. "But I think Wilcox is gaining _something_ from it."

"You gonna go to Hogwarts, slip through to the Vortex, and kick his arse in there?" asked Alec. "Some sort of Devoctrix-powered showdown?"

"I can't," said Albus. "We've got to find some other entrance. Which is what Desulgon is doing right now."

"It _is_ Desulgon?" asked Scorpius. "Sorry. I think I missed the memo when Dad ran us away from Hogwarts."

"I didn't exactly have the peachiest memories from there," snapped Draco, "and I correctly sensed I'd have even worse ones if we stayed."

"Draco," said Harry. "Stop. You owe us nothing, but you've given us enough to go on. Thank you, and anything you've lost by helping us, we'll repay you."

Draco glanced over into a corner, no response coming to his mind.

"I lost my best friend," said Scorpius quietly.

There didn't seem to be a response for that one either.

Harry rubbed the corners of his eyes, and sighed. "We'll repay you in revenge," he said, even quieter.

"Got it," said Desulgon, sitting up. "Cave in the Philippines. I picked up Cordot's specific scent and I know he's been there and that it's got some sort of strange magic around it. Feels like the remnants of the old Vanishing Point in Japan. Looks like that's the place to go if we want to head into the Abyssal Vortex."

"Are we all going, then?" asked Alec. "Sweet."

"Well, Wilcox is in there," said Harry. "Whatever we face in there, no one is going to face it alone. Draco—you said it barraged your mind?"

"It was crippling my thoughts," said Draco. "I couldn't bear it for very long. I can't imagine how Helio Wilcox is spending more than even a few seconds in there, let alone doing it often."

"We'll have to see how it goes," said Harry. "It may be that only a few of us have the strength to withstand it. Let's bring everyone we can."

Of course, the entire extended Potter-Weasley family wanted to go. Aidan, Alec, Mia, Lucas, and Janelle also volunteered, with their families backing them up; as did some of Albus's friends from Hogwarts and their families. All in all, there were about sixty of them total ready to go hunt Wilcox down before he realized they knew how to get into the Abyssal Vortex. Scorpius even wanted to join, looking fired up by Harry's remark about getting revenge for Eftan's death, and Draco reluctantly agreed to come as well.

They all linked hands in a network with Professor Desulgon. "Ready? Don't anybody let go until we've landed. And don't anybody touch the water—it's Vanishing Water, like the stuff that gave Japan's Vanishing Point its name. Anything that falls into it will be Vanished forever."

Desulgon turned, and like a ripple flowing through the network of interconnected arms, they all felt themselves turn as well. He pulled them all through an Apparition, directly into the cave that apparently resembled an old landmark in Japan. Desulgon cast out a bright flame that snaked in a loop around the ceiling to illuminate everything, because it was pitch-black when they had entered.

There were stalactites and stalagmites; it was a textbook cave. Drips of water were falling from the stalactites, dripping onto the stalagmites. There were small pools of water around the cave floor, and there was a rumbling sound coming from deeper within the cave… the waterfall that Draco had described, maybe.

"Don't step under or over a rock cone," noted Desulgon, "unless you want one of those drops of water falling in that area to carve a tube through you all the way from your head to your feet. The water is heavily enchanted around here, and so are the naturally occurring magic-repelling minerals found in places like this."

"Has nobody found this particular cave before?" asked Albus. "Besides Cordot, I mean. You had to search the entire world for it… How had no one noticed a place like this before?"

"We're _very_ far underground right now," said Desulgon. "And the minerals around here repel magic, so I'm not terribly surprised that no one had noticed it before. I found it more by searching for Cordot's scent in deep underground places than searching for the Vanishing Water."

They walked back towards the sound of rushing water, and there was sure enough a waterfall at this end of the cave; it crashed into the largest pool there, and was spraying the Vanishing Water a little too close to them for comfort; they backed away.

Desulgon waved his wand, and the Vanishing Water parted.

An eerie violet-black glow emanated from a large circular portal hovering behind the waterfall, the same color as the Vortex identified by the people in the mirror-world inside the Mirror of Erised. The same color as the goop that burst out of someone with the Chaos Contagion.

A portal to the Abyssal Vortex.

"No time to waste," said Albus. "If this place does what I think it does… he might be able to sense that we're coming. Let's all go together?"

Desulgon cast a bridge of light that extended over the pool of water, and then brought walls up on either side to form a tunnel to protect anyone passing through from being struck by any water droplets kicked up from the redirected waterfall.

"I don't think I can go with you," said Desulgon. "I need to be here to keep this bridge up and the waterfall parted for anyone who goes in, and defend in case any of Wilcox's forces find us here and try and cut off your escape from the Vortex. And even if anyone else could take my place, I don't know what that place would do to me, considering that I'm not exactly… fully human."

"We understand," said Albus. "Here—take the Invisibility Cloak, as another just-in-case." He tossed Desulgon the Invisibility Cloak, and out from its folds unrolled the Resurrection Stone—and both pieces promptly rolled into the nearest puddle, instantly dissolving in the Vanishing Water. But maybe that was for the best.

Desulgon slipped on the Cloak. "Everyone else," said Albus, "follow me."

It wasn't as intimidating as when he had been certain he needed to walk through the Veil, but it was still a serious step. Albus ran through the tunnel of light, making sure he was mentally prepared for whatever pain awaited him inside the Abyssal Vortex.

He burst through the portal to the Vortex, and careened slowly through a void without gravity as his family and friends burst through behind him.

It was a purple world, filled with black ripples. He recalled that Adexre, the first recorded visitor here, believed it to be an ocean of some sort; Albus thought of it more as like outer space, due to the lack of gravity, but he supposed that during Adexre's time, they didn't really know what outer space was like, and the ocean was a good descriptor if you didn't know there were places without gravity.

He looked around, realizing that he had no pain in his mind like he'd expected. Maybe Draco had some unexpected mental wounds, or something else about the reaction of his mind specifically that made him suffer a more severe reaction to the Abyssal Vortex than most people… after all, Adexre hadn't reported any pain, or maybe that part was just left out of the anecdote. He twisted his body around to face everyone else, wondering if he could talk to them in here or if sound was deadened like it was in space, since the gravity was like space.

But as he turned around to see everyone behind him, he gasped. Every single other person who had followed him into the Abyssal Vortex was doubled over in pain, clutching their heads—only Alec and Harry seemed slightly less affected. Albus kicked his way over to them, moving awkwardly in the void. "What's wrong?!" he cried out.

_They cannot stay here._

The voice hadn't come from anyone else—it had come from within Albus's own head. Something was in there with him.

"What are you?!" he cried.

_I am knowledge. Pure, unfiltered, unaffiliated truth. Lead your friends out of here, Albus Severus Potter, or their minds will be lost._

"Why am I unaffected?"

_Your mind has delved here before—you have experience with the Devoctrices. Your friend Alec cast one to make the wands referred to as Quantum Qualicy. Your father cast one over twenty-five years ago. They would last slightly longer in the Vortex. But only you can stay here. The others must leave, and they must leave now._

Albus looked around, and decided to obey the voice—after all, it was assumedly the same voice that told Draco to help them defeat Wilcox. And nobody else seemed to be in any state to get themselves out of the portal; they were incapacitated with the pain. Albus reached into his pockets for his wands, and lifted them out. For some reason, though, he didn't feel any power in them; he tried to use them, but nothing was happening.

He started to get the hang of moving around in the vortex, and he began pushing people back through the portal. This side of the portal simply hovered in the nothingness, disembodied, detached from any visible support or reinforcement. He shoved everyone through the portal, and once they were all out, he jumped out himself.

"What happened?" asked Desulgon, pulling a fold of the Cloak up, revealing a grim face. "I take it didn't go well…"

"They were in pain," said Albus.

"They were in pain?" repeated Desulgon. "And you weren't?"

Albus shook his head. "No, I wasn't. The voice said it was because of the Devoctrices I'd cast."

"The voice?" asked Harry, shaking his head and holding his temples. "All I heard from that voice was a repeated phrase. _Get out now. You can't stay here. Your mind will be lost._"

"That's what I heard, too," said Ginny, "although it was a little hard to hear. Fuzzy and indistinct."

"I heard it loud and clear," said Albus. "I think it talked individually to each of us. I had a short conversation with the voice." He took a deep breath. "It said… since I'd cast the Devoctrices before… I was the only one of us who was going to be able to withstand the Abyssal Vortex."

The waterfall gushing to the ground masked Albus's heavy breathing, for which he was very grateful; he didn't want anyone to know how nervous he was feeling, because he knew what this meant: He had to go it alone.

"Albus," said Janelle, walking up to him and giving him one more kiss. "Do whatever you need to do in there, and then…"

"Come back," said Albus. "I know."

"Please," said Janelle with a whisper.

"Once Wilcox is gone, I'll hide you from the Propheteers for as long as it takes," said Desulgon. "I'll declaw them all myself if I have to, to make the world safe for you. You've done so much for us already, and I can't believe fate is asking you to do more, yet again… but at the same time, I am at ease, because I know you can do it."

Lily stepped forward. "You're the most inspirational, influential person I've ever heard of," she said softly, "and I've studied a heck of a lot of the most amazing wizards in history. Albus… I wouldn't pick any one of them in a fight against you."

James stepped forward as well, but he didn't seem to be quite as at ease with the touchy-feely inspirational sentiments. "Er," he said. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Kill him dead, Albus. Yeah."

"I'm so very, very proud of you, Albus," said Ginny. "I remember a time when you were so worried about living up to any of your names. Now, you haven't just lived up to all three of those names—you've surpassed them, and you've made yourself the person everyone will remember whenever they think of bravery. Whenever they think of intelligence. Whenever they think of power. For a long time to come. But more important than that is your heart—and yours is stronger than any mother could ever hope for her child."

"I won't say anything to compare you to me," said Harry, "because I really don't need to. You are so thoroughly your own person, and that person is one of the greatest people I've ever known, in every way I know greatness. Every tribulation thrown at you, you have come through stronger and smarter every time. You wanted a normal life and got precisely the opposite—a spotlight life with a more intricate destiny than almost anyone in history—and the worst of the worst has surrounded you, and you turned out the best of the best." Harry was obviously fighting back tears. "And you've had enough trouble for a lifetime—but your life isn't anywhere near over yet. You'll come back to us, and you'll lead a long and happy normal life. I know it more deeply than a Seer sees the future, because I know your strength and your abilities, but more importantly, I know your willpower and your determination."

Harry and Ginny hugged him extremely tightly, and then when they broke off, Albus's Hogwarts friends all hugged him as well, a large group hug that gave him energy and life to finish this.

"You're stronger than him," said Lucas. "He got a bit of a head start on the Devoctrices, but you're stronger in every other way, and you'll come out on top."

"Albus, come back so we can joke about this over chess games until we die of natural causes at absurdly old ages," said Alec.

"Make him feel all the pain he's caused everyone else," said Aidan. "We believe in you. Go finish this."

Albus nodded, and he took another few deep breaths, turning back to the portal. Time was of the essence, and he couldn't wait around any longer.

And although the compliments were nice, he couldn't help but feel like they were all… just in case… saying goodbye.


	31. Board a Train

_**(IF YOU GOT TO THIS LINK FROM AN EMAIL UPDATE, just remember that I posted two chapters in quick succession this morning, so don't forget that there's a new Chapter 30 before this if you haven't already read that one)**_

_**Here's Chapter 31 and the epilogue. Epilogue was written by Andy.**__** I'll update again tomorrow with a longer explanation of what's happening from here.**_

**_It's been real, everyone. _****_Thank you for following Albus all the way to the end. _****_I love you all. Stay cool, stay happy, stay well-read. And don't think too much about the last chapter's title._**

**_See you at the bottom._**

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

BOARD A TRAIN

O

"Hello?"

_Hello, Albus Severus Potter._

Albus gulped. "I need to find Helio Wilcox."

_He is here._

"I need to defeat him."

_He is vulnerable._

"Can you help me?"

_I am helping you now._

Albus shook his head. "Is there a way you can… grant me any special power or anything? I know that may sound silly, but… I figured it couldn't hurt to ask…"

_You already have all the power you need and more. You carry all the power you need inside you, and you carry more in your pocket._

"My pocket…?"

Albus reached into his pocket. There were two crystals there—the Eucoeur, which he'd begun carrying in his pocket when his friends started dying, and the Kill Switch.

He pulled out the latter. "This?"

_The Kill Switch is the keystone to your destiny. But the power to defeat Helio Wilcox is separate. That is within you._

"I already used the Kill Switch. On the Pandoran Catalyst."

_You didn't destroy the Pandoran Catalyst with the Kill Switch—you just absorbed the power of the Catalyst into the crystal. The Catalyst would regain its power over time… if the Abyssal Vortex remains to provide it with Devoctrical power. But the important part is that the Kill Switch is now charged, and primed for use here in the Abyssal Vortex._

"The Kill Switch… will kill the Abyssal Vortex?"

_It will not kill the Vortex—it will seal it. Permanently. The Devoctrices on Earth that have been cast will remain so long as their effects generally allow. But not a one will be cast again._

Albus considered the ramifications of this, and he was almost made dizzy. No one like Wilcox could ever threaten the world again.

"No Devoctrices?" he clarified. "Ever again?"

_None,_ said the voice from within.

Albus looked down at the crystal in his hand.

"Draxler Cordot made this, foreseeing me here today?" asked Albus. "Did he actually have this situation in mind when he made it?"

_Draxler Cordot made a lot of things with a lot of situations in mind._

"Explain," said Albus.

_The Hourglass Empire, for example. It was not made as a refuge for people fleeing injustice and terror._

Albus blinked. "It wasn't?"

_No, Albus Severus Potter… it was created for you._

Albus shook his head. "I don't understand what you mean by that…"

_You will,_ said the voice. _You do._

"The Hourglass Empire… that _can't_ be. He did all that, just to…"

_Draxler Cordot was a frequenter to the Abyssal Vortex. He learned from the knowledge here, just as you are doing now. And he knew exactly what he had to do to rid the world of the powers he correctly feared would become widespread and wildly out of control. When he created the Hourglass Empire, he knew exactly what he was doing for you, millennia later. He forged the Empire with the specific intent of creating a place where you could hide from Wilcox, and where Wilcox would hide a Horcrux that you would later locate much more swiftly than if it had been in a random place on the globe._

"That's insane," said Albus.

_That is the power of knowledge. There are dozens of other examples from Cordot alone. Every time you had a narrow escape, it was Cordot's arrangements that caused it to be._

_Cordot enchanted the Kill Switch to call the phoenixes when it was first activated, sensing that the phoenixes would be needed shortly thereafter._

_Cordot modified the enchantments on the pyramid that teleported you to Lucas's residence, ensuring that your specific touch thousands of years in the future would bring you to your friend._

_Cordot was the one who placed the giant squid in the Black Lake, knowing that a school would be built there in the future and the squid would save you during your escape in your sixth year._

_Cordot created the Mirror of Erised, knowing the very specific fact that without the shout of "Vortex" that you heard within the mirror, you never would have known where Wilcox had gone when he went into the Room of Requirement, and you would not be here now._

"Holy shit," said Albus, his brain spinning. "But…Why didn't Cordot just kill Wilcox's grandfather or something? So that none of this ever happened?"

_Do you know who this is?_

An unfamiliar form drifted in front of Albus out of nowhere: a young woman who wouldn't have stood out in a crowd. She passed by him and vanished back into the abyss like she was drifting into an invisible cloud.

"No," he said. "Who is that?"

_That is Sharla Novalov. She was seeking a new Philosopher's Stone, but she was at the same time discovering some new and terrible possibilities. If Wilcox had not threatened to destroy the world you know, Novalov would have done it instead. But Wilcox killed Novalov out of his envy, wanting to ensure that no one else alive knew about the Devoctrices._

"So if Cordot had killed Wilcox, someone else would have done what he did."

_And if he'd killed Novalov, someone else would have done it. Eventually someone will. Someone always will. There was always going to be a Devoctrix scholar to take the previous one's place—that is, of course, until Wilcox killed them all a few years ago. Now the closing of the Abyssal Vortex is the last step. But it couldn't have been done during Cordot's lifetime. There were too many Devoctrix users on the planet—the Vortex would not have closed, with so many links to the world in the form of the Devoctrix scholars._

"So Cordot kept Wilcox alive… to do most of the dirty work for him, of taking out the other Devoctrix scholars?"

_And in fact, he even assisted Wilcox's collection of knowledge of the Devoctrices in the first place, in the same subtle ways that he assisted you._

"But so many people died because of Wilcox!"

_Cordot allowed those people to die in order to save more people down the line. Like your decision to face Wilcox, Cordot's decision was not one that many people could have made. But he chose to go down this route, where many people die, in order to avoid a future where _everyone_ dies. It is like the Propheteers' mantra, except that the Propheteers base their actions on theory; Cordot's were based on knowledge. Pure, unfiltered, unaffiliated truth._

_His first goal was defeating Pyron. And you assisted this goal as well. But Cordot orchestrated the fall of _every_ Devoctrix scholar, through the rise of Wilcox. And as a result… yes, many innocent people died as well. If there had been a way to more surely end the Devoctrical epoch with fewer deaths, Cordot may have taken it. However, if one existed, he did not find it. He paved for you the path of least resistance. There was still a lot of resistance, of course, but what he did for you was deal the cards as much in your favor as he could… and the most important card he dealt you, you haven't even thought to ask yet._

"What?"

_Why could you pick up the Squib sword—why was the mulunctapol not able to drain you completely of your magic?_

The answer rose to his lips, effortlessly, but the answer shocked him nonetheless. "Cordot… gave me magic?"

_He did,_ said the voice. _In fact, you were Cordot's greatest creation. The epitome of his efforts; the culmination of every machination, who would achieve his ends in his endgame._

_Your greatest fear of your early years—being born without magic—was, in fact, true. But Draxler Cordot, early on your seventh birthday, cast the Magimorph Devoctrix on you. He gave you magic. It is why all of the Devoctrix users were drawn to you—you are a living, breathing relic of the Devoctrices._

"So," said Albus, feeling a wave of disappointment crash over him, "the only reason I'm special… is because someone… _made_ me special? I wasn't born with magic—I couldn't have defeated Wilcox on my own—I would have died so many times if Cordot hadn't bailed me out."

_What do you imagine makes your enemy special? Did he will himself into the knowledge that so few others even knew existed? No. It was accident, chance, and happenstance—and Cordot's machinations helped him, too._

_The same exact person that the one known as Helio Wilcox was when born, if born into a poorer family struggling to get by, would have perhaps focused all of their efforts on feeding their loved ones. They would never have even had the opportunity to become what they are now. Occasionally they rise up from the dust, but again it is by accident, chance, and happenstance. Hard work alone is nothing without the proper circumstances._

"Then no one is special," said Albus. "Everyone is who they are because of accident, chance, and happenstance. The circumstances under which you were born. The people that you met. Your surroundings, and the chemicals that make up your body, determine every action you will ever make, from birth… No decision is real, and there is no accomplishment to truly be proud of—since you were destined for it from the beginning, by the molecular arrangement of the universe and the laws of their physics."

_You out of all people must have learned that there is something more to consciousness. And should you be looking for something that was no accident, take a look in the next mirror you see._

"What do you mean?"

_You were chosen, Albus Potter. Your selection… This was no accident. Yes, it was partially because of how you were born—but you had both sources of the proper motivation for this task. You had the necessity for self-defense, as the son of a famous warrior, but you also possessed the natural curiosity for the knowledge you sought. There are billions of people on this planet who could have been chosen by Cordot to defeat Pyron and put an end to the schemes of so many other Devoctrix scholars, but _you_ were chosen._

_You were chosen not only because you were one of the few people capable of housing the kind of power necessary to complete the quest, but because you were one of the few people brave enough to actually attempt completing the quest, and one of the few people noble enough not to abuse the knowledge that you obtained. The single person, in fact, where all three of those traits intersected. The only person who could defeat Wilcox._

Albus worked his jaw from side to side, trying to understand what the voice was trying to tell him. "But then, Cordot prophesied our victory," said Albus. "So, no matter _what_ I do, we'll win, if it's a prophecy. Right?"

_You should know by now that this is not the case. Prophecies are in fact very close to what you mentioned before—reading the molecular arrangement of the universe and using it to describe exactly how events will proceed, given the proper starting point and the proper laws of physics and chemistry. Seers merely translate these vibrations into a language humans can read and hear. Some prophecies trigger their instinct for Trances, which create the actual prophecies that you know. And some people put more faith in prophecies than they need to—you have encountered such fanatics. But Seers do sometimes fail to accurately predict the future because they fail to account for something that transcends molecular arrangements and chemical reactions._

"What's that?" said Albus by default, though he felt he already knew the answer.

_Free will. Hope. Malice. Determination. Love. The contents of a soul. These cannot be predicted by the laws of nature. They are only controlled by the individual. The laws of the soul._

_The Abyssal Vortex is the bestowal of power, and of knowledge. It is neither good nor evil. The brain is the receptor of power, and of knowledge. It is neither good nor evil. The soul is the _enactor_ of power, and of knowledge—and it is _both_ good and evil. Humans, particularly Muggles, like to believe that the brain stores information, retrieves it, activates it, codes and interprets it. But the source of self, the fiber of being, the true identity, the reason every person is so thoroughly distinct… that comes from the soul. Why else would a person become an empty shell when the soul is lost? The brain is still functioning when your soul is stolen by a Dementor, but you are reduced to an empty vessel unable to react or emote._

_The brain codes information, but the soul is what decides the course of action to take. It is not of the realm of the physical world. The soul exists in the intersections of the planes of magic and emotion. And it cannot be coded or predicted—because free will can always allow you to choose to defy the prediction. You can always choose not to act when you know it to be necessary. You can always reject what you are given and seek what is kept from you. Including in fate—and especially in fate._

_So, regardless of the circumstance, regardless of whatever way any prophecy leads, you are faced with a decision. Set all else aside. You stare into the face of the enemy with a way to potentially trap him here for eternity, and make sure no one else like him can ever rise again. What are you going to do? You were chosen because you were most likely to make the right decision, and to make all of your decisions that led you to this point. But you should set forth with the understanding that those decisions were always up to you._

"Trap him here for eternity," said Albus, and he realized an implication that he had avoided up until this point. "When I seal the Vortex, I'll trap him?"

_Yes. And you know the answer to the question you were ready to ask next._

"I'll be trapped here forever too."

_Yes. That is what was implied by the prophecy you know so well by this point—when the final shadow is banished, its banishing light shall leave the world with it._

"I thought you just said that the prophecies weren't concrete…"

_They are not. You are perfectly welcome to try and defeat Wilcox in a straight confrontation here, or wait until he leaves the Vortex and try again with an army so that you don't have to trap yourself here. But before you make that decision, you should know what he is planning to do._

"What's that?"

_With nothing left to lose, he has searched for a last-ditch effort to defeat you. He has asked the Vortex for instruction in how to rewrite history. He is planning to Catalyze the Chronozone, Psychomorph, and Vivertain Devoctrices in such a way as to create an alternate history of the world, in which your family is destroyed. He will leave here and head straight for the moon. When he reaches the moon, he will begin the process, which he has been studying since he last arrived here; when the process ends, you will cease to exist, time rewritten as if you had been killed at a young age. The world will rewrite its own history, and reinvent itself with the one known as Helio Leard Wilcox as its ruler, as if you had never been there to oppose him._

_He will dive into the time stream with the Chronozone Devoctrix, and use the Psychomorph and Vivertain Devoctrix to place his current mind and soul permanently into his slightly younger self. He will strangle your family in the past and, in doing so, live his life towards building a new future for himself, in which he is an absolute despot by this point in time, with all the power in the world at his fingertips._

_You could go to Dalton Desulgon and warn him, and you could all head to the moon to try and stop Wilcox… But there is the chance that you will fail. If you activate the Kill Switch in the next sixteen seconds, however… You will succeed._

_So, Albus Potter… what is your decision?_

It was an easy one.

"I'm going to stop him," said Albus. "I'm going to stop him now."

_Draxler Cordot chose you, Albus Potter—but he chose you because he knew you would, in your soul, always make right choices for the world. Grip the crystal in your hand, and squeeze it tightly. Eight seconds._

He didn't have time to say goodbye.

_Four seconds._

It was a good thing at least that his family already had.

_Two seconds, Albus—one second._

He shattered the crystal in his fist. There was a pulse, a shimmer, a shatter. A roar and a whisper.

And then silence.

_Helio Wilcox is trapped._

Albus looked behind him.

The portal behind him had closed.

He wiped away a brimming tear. He had yet to internalize what this meant for him. He would not internalize it for a while.

_He will ask the Vortex what has happened. He will come for you._

"Let him come," said Albus.

_He cannot leave—but he will want to kill you for revenge, for what you have done to him by sealing the Vortex._

"What does it matter?" asked Albus, shaking his head. "We'll both die in here anyway, with no food. I may even kill myself to avoid starvation."

_Your body is in stasis—you do not need earthly necessities like food and water. Your soul is what is manifested here instead. Whoever stays alive here will have access to unlimited knowledge of eternity. You may see what your friends are doing. You may project yourself into their laughter, bear witness to their children's growth, see everything, be everywhere. You will know anything you want to know; you will know everything._

"For the first time in my life," said Albus, "I don't want to know everything. Wherever I end up in this endless void… if I stay here, or if I board a train… I just want to be _happy._"

_There is a way to achieve that as well… and again… it is in your pocket._

Albus smiled, and reached into his pocket.

_Wilcox approaches._

Albus drew the hand back out of his pocket "He can't kill me—there's no magic."

_There's no magic, but there is something else._

Albus's eyes widened, as he finally saw a point of color coming at him full-speed from the distance.

With a roar, Wilcox swiped a vicious energy blast at him—something Devoctrical—and Albus tried to contort out of the way, but was not used to moving in this strange dimension; he was hit in the side, and sent spinning. Suddenly, he was falling—but he'd thought there was no gravity? Then he saw that Wilcox was creating a natural landscape straight out of the nothingness of the Abyssal Vortex—trees, boulders, streams, a breeze—he was using the Paracosmic Devoctrix to create the world, and then the Natural Storm Devoctrix now to control it, and boulders the size of houses were ripped out of the ground and thrown at Albus's head.

He kicked himself out of the way with a blast of energy from one foot, moving much more comfortably now. Wilcox cast his Spirit Guard, but his shark guardian was pitch-black like his soul, an even worse version of the Miasmus. As it chased Albus down with terrible jaws wide, Wilcox seemed to create some sort of Dominict-Devoctrix-like device out of a stick from one of the trees, and shot it at Albus. Wilcox didn't care anymore if he went insane, he just wanted to kill Albus, so he was casting all of the Devoctrices he could, and Albus could even see black streaks trickling throughout Wilcox's skin.

_I can't beat him,_ thought Albus, turning tail and fleeing; jumping past the edge of Wilcox's nature scenery, he took off into the void without gravity and energy-kicked his way into a fast rush through the void. _He's too powerful… he knows how to cast the Devoctrices like I never will, and I won't have any time to learn here because he'll always pursue me._

_You are more powerful than he is, Albus Severus Potter,_ came the reply from the Abyssal Vortex. _You are far more powerful than you know. Do not underestimate the importance of your untainted soul._

_I've killed people, though,_ thought Albus, although the source of endless knowledge probably knew that. _How am I untainted?_

He looked behind him to see Wilcox and his black Spirit Guard shark in hot pursuit.

_You know this,_ chastised the voice._ It is because you have felt remorse. It has kept your soul intact, which will allow you to cast the most powerful Devoctrix of them all. Not the Superstorm, not the Dominict, not the Darkriver._

_Love,_ thought Albus.

_Love,_ said the Vortex voice in response. _The Amivical Devoctrix, like any of the other Devoctrices, can take multiple forms. In this case, your soul is flying free in the Vortex, and you have more power in one finger in this form than Wilcox has in his whole body. Imagine if you got ten fingers on him. Do you know what happened to Quirinus Quirrell when Voldemort's tainted soul was exposed on the back of his head and your father laid hands on him?_

_He dissolved,_ answered Albus._ He couldn't bear the touch._

_And neither can Wilcox now—another villain with a diseased soul exposed. It cannot stand the touch of someone who felt love so deeply that he sacrificed himself for the good of those he loved._

Albus spun in the air, and he kicked hard in the opposite direction, soaring straight at Wilcox.

The shark Spirit Guard writhed through the void like it was swimming, jaws wide, and it moved to intercept Albus.

_Do not fear,_ said the voice in his head.

Albus soared on, and as the shark clamped its jaws down, it shattered like black glass, glittering pieces drifting in every direction of the void until they faded completely; the Dark Spirit Guard also could not stand his touch. Albus soared right on to Wilcox, who turned to flee but a moment too late, as Albus grabbed his ankle.

Wilcox howled in pain and pulled away, but when he turned to face Albus again, his foot dissolved out into the abyss; for the first time since Albus had learned he was evil, Wilcox looked utterly terrified.

He pursued again; Wilcox turned to flee as well, but was slower with his amputation. Albus grabbed hold of a shoulder, and spun Wilcox around so that the man was facing him in the air.

"This is for Eftan!" he roared, and slammed a hand into Wilcox's stomach; the skin started to calcify and crack.

"This is for Holly!" he yelled, and sunk his fingernails deep into Wilcox's thigh, which dusted, breaking off the rest of the leg that also began to disintegrate.

"This is for Parker—" he punctuated each name with another full-handed strike— "and Sylvester—and Eben and Kolby and Colin and—and—"

He looked down to see that he was running out of Wilcox—only Wilcox's head remained, but was still seemingly sentient, the mouth agape and twitching in horror, the eyes focused on Albus.

"And this is for everyone else," he said, and he slammed his hands on either side of Wilcox's head, and squeezed.

The man gave a last strangled cry, which did not echo, as there was nothing off of which it could have echoed. And then he was crunched into nothingness, and Albus stared at the dust in his hands where Wilcox used to be, and even the dust was fading away into nothingness.

It was over.

He wanted to collapse on some surface. He wanted the voice to return to him—_just kidding,_ it would say, _there is a way out—_he wanted nothing more than to see his family again, to hug and laugh and cry with them, to share the relief.

How long before they realized that it really was over? The portal had closed, but they would probably be suspicious. They wouldn't believe it was finished. Then again, he knew he could look out on them… but did he want to? Did he want to live for all of eternity pretending that he was there with his siblings and cousins, pretending he was there for the birth and growth of his children and grandchildren, until there were too many to count and he simply watched over the whole world?

He looked around. Nothingness surrounded him on all sides. He supposed there was nothing better to do.

"What are my friends doing right now?"

_I will let you see._

He zoomed through the eyes of his friends. Desulgon had confirmed, beyond a doubt, that the Abyssal Vortex was sealed, with Albus and Wilcox inside. They mourned Albus, but he was to be commemorated with his own version of Adelina Nelson Day. April 17, 2024. The day he'd stopped Wilcox. They didn't even know whether either Albus or Wilcox was dead or alive—but they knew Albus had stopped Wilcox, and Albus's friends kept faith that he was alive, as always. Maybe even looking down on them. Albus smiled.

Alec celebrated by presenting an engagement ring to Mia—a bit early, and she did slap him across the face twice, but she accepted when he pointed out that she had proven she had true love for him, and they had literally gone to the moon and back for each other. Two people had hardly ever been in as much love.

Aidan and Rose kissed as well—their relationship was tentative, but they would have to see where that went. Exo seemed to be fine with it; he was greatly enjoying the company of Aunt Fleur's niece Renee, in fact…

James was named by Percy as a very temporary Head of the Auror Office, as if he needed a bigger ego—but it was just for a short while as they were getting things back in order at the Ministry. Still, he did not miss an opportunity to boast. Lily succumbed to depression for some time, but found solace in books; Albus hoped she wouldn't be too affected by the loss, that she could continue to lend her incredible talents to the world. Eventually, Lily was helped, by Rose, to realize that if Albus was watching right now, he'd want her to live her life to the fullest, and Lily agreed. She joined Hugo in applying to take their O.W.L.s early, despite not having gone to school in the past year at all, so they could stay on track at school.

Desulgon helped clean up the Ministry in record time, and then disappeared on a soul-searching quest—literally, a quest to see if he there was any way to create or find a genuine soul for himself. Cynthia joined him on this quest, and they were happy together as well.

Louis and Gil also announced their engagement shortly after Alec and Mia, and Teddy and Victoire were furious that Louis and Gil had stolen their spotlight about having been about to announce that there was a baby on the way, and there was so much to celebrate about. All of the Potters and Weasleys gathered, just to be together and enjoy each other's company safely for the first time in a long time—

He couldn't do this.

He couldn't do it; not anymore. He couldn't watch his family be happy and wish he were there. He couldn't dwell on dreams forever.

But he did have one more option before he tried anything drastic…

What was it the Vortex voice had said about the Eucoeur in his pocket?

_Use it,_ said the voice inside his head, sensing his thoughts. _Use the Eucoeur. And you will leave all of this behind you._

Albus cracked the crystal.

Memories of love surrounded him instantly—the fun, romantic times which he had spent with Holly and with Janelle. His brother's affectionate words about his Sorting into Gryffindor. His friends having packed themselves into his suitcase so that they could be sure he would never leave without them. All of the people who sacrificed things for him, even when he didn't know whether his plans would work out. His family, and the kind words they'd shared before his departure, and every kind word they'd ever said, and he'd focused so often on the negatives in his life, he never realized how much positivity there was; how happiness could even be found in the darkest of times, if only he remembered to turn on the light.

Something else was happening as a result of his cracking the Eucoeur.

The pieces of the Eucoeur, unlike the pieces of the Spirit Guard Wilcox had cast or the pieces of Wilcox himself, were not dissolving into nothingness; they were rising, rotating, shivering. Some power, much greater than even the Devoctrices, was swirling around Albus; lifting him up, spinning him around. He felt a surge of energy unlike anything he'd ever felt; a rush of warmth and a cooling breeze, a crash of sound and light—he felt everything transforming around him.

Was he boarding the train?

A great swell of emotions inside him, and suddenly his consciousness began to fade away. He was left floating into the unknown again, but he felt, for the first ever time in his life, that not a bone in his body was troubled.

His body, his mind, his soul… were utterly, and completely, content.

* * *

EPILOGUE

NINE YEARS LATER

O

"Mum!" Lily bellowed, rushing through the Potter house, not on any tight schedule but wasting no time nonetheless. She clutched a hodgepodge collection of assorted papers in one hand, and amplified her voice with the wand in her other hand. "MUM! DAD!"

"Lily!" came the response at last. "Oh, my goodness. We weren't expecting you!"

Ginny ran down the stairs to hug her daughter. Harry followed shortly behind, while James, who was sitting at the dining room table, threw his arms up at the ceiling in exasperation.

"Hello to you too, little sister!" James huffed. "I don't get a shout, then? No, I'm only the head of the Auror Office again as of last Monday, but no need to—"

"James!" Lily interrupted, pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know you would be here. I was going to tell you later, but good, this is better, that you're here!" She was breathing like she'd just played a multi-day Quidditch match, and charmed her papers to rid them of the sweat she'd accidentally soaked into them.

"What?" James asked. "Did you finally get a job?"

"Can it, James," Lily said impatiently. "This is serious, you're not gonna believe—"

"The job is the _most serious thing_ in your life right now," Ginny touted, sensing the opportunity to inject her wisdom, "with that four-year graduate law degree getting staler and staler the longer you put it off—"

"No," Lily said, "it's not the most serious thing." She slammed the stack of papers down, and started sifting through them. Some had complex calculations that she'd written out in painstakingly small numbering and lettering; others had drawings from children's books. And those weren't even the most mismatched papers in the pile.

"Lily," Harry pried gently. "Is this… what you've been doing? The two and a half years you've gone without a serious job?"

"I'm thinking of opening up a research lab. I've already found a group of great people who are willing to—"

"I," James cut in, "am still waiting for my congratulations from Lily."

"I'll send you a card, jerk!"

"Lily," Ginny said as tenderly as possible, "I've told you before. This idea you've got in your head… it's a pipe dream, to be perfectly honest. It might not seem like it. It never does at first. But this, it's a Mirror of Erised you're chasing, and you're going to get sucked in! You know no one would be happier than your father and I if it were possible, but people have driven themselves crazy for less—"

"I've proven it," Lily said, finally accessing the paper she'd sought, and she triumphantly slapped it flat on the dining room table. The ink of the numbers and symbols gleamed up, no more triumphantly than any other calculation she might have placed there. But these ones carried a message of the most incredible hope, that she was about to translate for everyone at the table.

They looked up at her, expectantly.

"I've proven it beyond a doubt," Lily breathed. "Albus can still be found."

Ginny and Harry shared a glance, and Lily knew they'd heard similar tunes before.

"I had the greatest mathematical minds in seven countries check it out for me," she added. "And it… Well. It checks out." She smiled hesitantly. "The Second Realm—that's the Abyssal Vortex—here's what we know about it—"

She touched her quill to different points on the paper, but gave up when she saw everyone else's eyes unfocus, and went back to words. "I've analyzed the magical structure of the Second Realm," she said. "And I noticed—the relation between the Eucoeur and the Second Realm's physics looks a lot like the relation from a portal in our realm—which corroborates the legends—"

"Lily, please," James said seriously, "before I pass out. _What does it mean?_"

"It means, without a doubt," Lily continued frantically, giving significant glances at each of her family members in turn, "that if Albus used the Eucoeur that he brought into the Second Realm… he would be transmuted into the Third Realm, the realm of emotion." She breathed heavily. "When he sealed the Second Realm, we all thought that meant he could never be recovered, but when Bill told me the legend of Ephreneia, I just had to check the theory, and it took me _years,_ but I _finally got it!_ So yes, the Second Realm is sealed forever, but Albus isn't in the Second Realm, he's in the Third, and the Third Realm—the Third Realm is _not_ sealed, and that means—"

The happy tears that she'd shed this morning were coming back, and she let them flow freely.

"Albus can still be found."

* * *

**Coming soon: Lily Potter and the Third Realm, a book in two parts, focusing on Lily's post-Hogwarts life as a magical legal consultant in the post-Global Revelation and post-Wilcox world, and her attempts to balance her professional life with her efforts to find her brother and bring him home.**

**More information about this and other projects, along with longer and sappier "goodbye-Albus-series" posts, will be coming in an update tomorrow.**

**~Andy**


	32. Author's Notes from Cody and Andy

From the desk of Cody

Hi all! It's the end of a series, but the beginning of something new.

For my part, I'll discuss the Dark Revival, mostly, along with other potential projects present and future, and then Andy will discuss the new Lily-centered book.

The Dark Revival was meant to run concurrently with the series, honestly, but I realized that first off, there was no way I could do both at the same time (due to the time they require but also if I would have had to share the focus between the stories, kind of like dueling with two wands); and secondly, even if I could do both at the same time, there was no way I was going to be able to finish The Dark Revival at the time that I wanted (just before the reveal of Nelson and Ingot at the Pandoran Catalyst). The Dark Revival is going to be a lottttttt of chapters. So I decided to put it on hold so I could give both projects, Albus and the Revival, the strong focus they both deserved.

Yes—you know what happens at the end—but you've known how that story ends since the first chapter, really. But it's the in between stuff that I wanted to share. I didn't do the Dark Revival just for the battle at the end that everyone knows how it turns out—I did it because there was a huge number of events in the middle that I was imagining that I wanted to depict. It will have some cameos of people in the series, but a lot of the characters in the Dark Revival will be entirely new… and as such, you're not going to know who makes it to the end and who doesn't. This wouldn't be a Dark period comparable to Voldemort if people didn't die; the Dark Revival is going to be as dark, and at times worse, than the Albus series, so keep that in mind if you read it.

I enjoyed writing the Albus series so much; I'm excited to stay in this world, but I'll have to be mindful of the sequence of events. Owning two wands, for example, didn't really become a big thing until after Ollivander and Luna tag-teamed the discovery of wand maturation processes, which made casting spell easier and was the last step for opening the door for having two wands at once. Diwand spells—and popular Diwand tactics like Albus studied in his A.R.M. course—will not be appearing in the Dark Revival. I'm mentioning this because I may forget and slip up, so if you see something like Frostflame (which Desulgon invented, but he's not even Hogwarts age yet during the Dark Revival), let me know so I can fix it! I'll do my best not to make any mistakes, of course.

I'll try to upload the Dark Revival as follows: Since I planned out the chapters so that every fifth chapter is a little longer and packs a little more of a plot punch, I'll upload the first four chapters of a five-chapter arc on the first four Fridays of the month, and the fifth chapter on the Saturday the day after the fourth. This may or may not work out—I'll have to see whether that's too much for me to write once I get back to school. I may also rewrite the first ten chapters, as I think I could make them tighter, so that might delay the restarting of uploads. Hopefully they'll begin in September, but I won't make that a promise for fear of breaking it… Just know that it's coming! I don't know when exactly, but those of you who are followers on The Dark Revival story will get email updates. The link is on my profile because the first ten chapters are up, but mind that I may revise those, so if you're planning on reading or rereading those first ten, you may want to do it when I upload the eleventh, because then you'll be sure to be reading the most recent version of those chapters!

I will be continuing the Albus/Scorpius one-shots, also; I've just uploaded another one. That's sort of my relaxation writing, what I write when I want to write something short and don't want to have it part of something enormous like usual. And yes, I'm gay and I like to sometimes picture alternate universes where characters are gay (although from what I've read about Cursed Child, Albus and Scorpius being flaming homosexuals is practically canon), so I'm writing in a different universe where they're in love and they may occasionally do things teenagers do with each other when they like each other. If you don't like it… don't read it… it sounds obvious, but seriously, take that advice! Do not say things like "I expected more substance" or "you're better than this". Don't go in there expecting some sort of intricate multilayered plotline or something and then cuss me out when it's just cutesy interactions or when it's just smut. I write the Al/Scorp when I want to take a break from the stuff that requires more intensive focus. I write a lot of different kinds of things and you don't have to read the ones that don't appeal to your interests; it's not my fault if you got something different than you expected, especially since I've given fair warning.

There's also a one-shot coming entitled _Vanessa's Vantage,_ which I will upload with a relevant note as soon as it's edited to my full liking. There may be other one-shots based on the series, but I don't have any in mind right now and don't want to force any. If an idea naturally happens, though, obviously I wouldn't count it out. Also, if you haven't read the other one-shots I've posted throughout the years (like Dizzy Daze, Neville Longbottom and the Sorting Hat's Song), give those a look and let me know what you like so I can write more of that sort of thing!

For now, I'm going to end my author's note here; anything else big, I will let you know on my author's page or in updates on other stories.

It's been awesome. Let's keep it awesome.

-Cody

O

From the desk of Andy

First off, it's my fault this time that this author's note wasn't uploaded "tomorrow" like the last chapter said we would be uploading it. I wanted to make this note thorough, but I had a busy week.

Anyway. Hi! Apart from the few recent notes at the end here, I haven't said much over the course of this series. I do read every review posted on these stories, though, and they touch my heart so deeply. It's so good to know how many people are getting enjoyment out of this series, especially because it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't happened to bump into Cody on a chat site. So I want to, of course, give the most massive thank you to that man whose profile I'm writing in. Without him, this series would have still been a hundred-page Word document floating around the abyss of my first laptop, occasionally visited by my eyes only with an "Oh, yeah, I plotted out an Albus Potter story once." There's no way I would have been able to write all this myself four years ago.

That being said…

I've grown fonder and fonder of the idea of writing my own story as this one concluded. I don't remember if Cody mentioned, but I do a lot of writing myself. I wrote a few hilariously bad little fanfics for myself before I knew what this site was, and I plotted out a large amount of this fic, but I haven't really made a serious attempt at writing one for myself. I've written parts of some standalone novels, but it's very rare that I actually have a finished product to show people. As such, I do a lot of practice, but I don't tend to get a lot of feedback, since I don't tend to show my finished product. If you all would be willing to help me with your honest advice, I would be very happy to share some of my writing with you. My only worry is not being able to adequately follow the incredible product that Cody just finished! But I'll do my best.

The opportunity arose when I took a look back at Cody's and my redesigned epilogue. I'd initially imagined Albus coming to Hogwarts with his kids, mirroring Harry in his own epilogue the way Albus's seventh year mirrored Harry's. But when we redesigned the seventh book, we decided Albus needed to make more of a sacrifice against this villain. The epilogue wrote itself after our decision—our Lily would never rest until she knew exactly what had happened to her brother, and whether or not she could reverse it.

I thought about Lily trying to find Albus. I wondered if there might be more to explore there. "What would Lily be doing after Hogwarts," I wondered. At the same time, I was getting into court documentaries and reading transcripts of Supreme Court oral arguments. And then, to take a page from one of our books, it hit me like a Shatterbolt, for quite a few reasons.

-There is a veritable gold mine sitting in the exploration of law in wizarding society. Especially in a post-Global-Revelation society as described in this series. Some fascinating questions began to accumulate in my head, growing like huge trees with countless branches. As an example, what should witches and wizards be expected to do for Muggles in the way of magical assistance? In the United States, we have affirmative action: some people are unfortunately born at a measurable, quantifiable disadvantage, irrelevant to how many people have the "right intentions." For example, someone's skin color can cause some discreetly racist educators or employers to subconsciously lower their expectations, or deny them housing or social services which they would have been able to access had their skin been white. There are many other motivators behind trying to even the odds for people of minority status, and this is one of many legal battles happening in American society. How much, then, is the "disadvantage" worth, of being born a Muggle? Having each magical person required to use their magic to assist Muggles on occasion may seem, to some, to be leveling the playing field. After all, witches and wizards did nothing to earn their magic except be born that way. It's almost a tax, as a tax might be employed on an estate that is passed to an heir. The heir did nothing to earn that estate. Why should they have millions of dollars worth of land handed to them when there are people working four jobs and still starving to death? On the other hand, some people argue inheritances should be untouched. How far would we go with our participation-trophy efforts before we consider everyone equal? Alter everyone's genome to be the same? Clone teachers so no two pupils have a dissimilar education? These, then, could be liberal and conservative arguments in wizarding law regarding Muggle assistance programs. These and other sticky legal issues were fun to explore.

-It also presented an opportunity to take a different angle. Lily will be fighting enemies in much different settings than Albus. Rather than facing a transparently evil individual, Lily may find herself doubting her own ethics in a fight against an indeterminate idea of legality. In law, there are passionate, well-designed arguments on both sides, and you don't know who truly believes in anything they're saying.

Someone could have the right motivators but still be unwittingly seeking an unethical outcome. One example would be the fight over welfare. Some believe they are doing the right thing by subsidizing food for struggling families. Others believe less families would struggle if we focus less on safety nets. They say we should be less tolerant of people who avoid employment, because seeking jobs instead of safety nets would help them and their country more in the long run. So who is right? I could guess, of course. I stick with my guess, because I'm an active voter and I try to research my politicians' positions and the efficacy of their efforts. But perhaps I'm wrong, and the side I think is doing evil is actually doing good. So maybe I've been fighting against struggling families this whole time.

Or, someone could have the wrong motivators, but their goal could still end up being something that is legal and/or just. Consider someone who takes revenge against a political ally by hacking into their data systems and revealing illegal activities they'd undertaken, thereby sealing their victory in an election. Maybe the new politician could make improvements for the district they represent. But if they're also breaking the law in the process (and breaking the same laws as their opponent when no one is watching), is that something we should tolerate?

-In addition, Lily will have to balance her responsibilities to the Ministry while also researching ways to bring Albus back—which is a more important goal for her to be pursuing? Chasing a possible dead end that has a chance to bring her brother back? Or applying her talents to try and better her society, even though she may never change the way things are at all? Is Lily even doing the right things? Are her efforts even for the benefit of society?

-Lastly, the new story idea also happened to make up for some things I wished we'd changed in the beginning stages of the books, as I hadn't known enough about writing to have accounted for them. For one thing, I entirely did not realize the classic male domination of the story arc. I wish I'd included more female representation. (Though there's a twist regarding two background female characters, which we always planned but never felt it was fully relevant to reveal. You'll see it in Vanessa's Vantage.) The new story also allows me to deeply design character motives, flaws, relationships, and other details that were doomed to be lost in a story where there's a villain of pure evil and everyone you know is either with the hero or against him. I thought Cody did an excellent job with what he could, of course. But I also think that my plot's backbone, at times, constrained that vein of development. Nevertheless, I am happy with how it turned out, but I am even happier to have an opportunity to expand on the universe and add some story elements that were difficult to add in what we'd initially constructed.

So, I will be exploring these in a two-part book (likely the length of this final book or a bit longer) entitled _Lily Potter and the Third Realm._ I will be uploading it onto Cody's profile, because I have nothing on mine. Cody will be providing review and feedback anyway, so he will be working on the story too. We agreed to upload it on his profile. He has better notoriety and more people will probably see it to provide me feedback, so I'd rather upload it here. Then there's the fact that Cody's series is highly-recommended reading for the Lily book I'll be writing, and would be easier to find if we upload on the same account. So, I'll be uploading here. If you want to contact me directly, though, PM my own profile (andyicefox) rather than this account. My upload schedule? I don't know if I'll be able to have a concrete one. I'm starting on my PhD this year and will be busy as heck. But I always make time for the things about which I am passionate. This is quickly becoming one of them.

And the first installment of this Lily Potter book is now uploaded, so the file is available if anyone wants to see the basics of what it's going to look like! Check it out, and I hope it'll be a story you'll want to follow!

Andy

* * *

(P.S. from Cody: an excerpt from our discussion about this author's note)

Cody: Wow, I didn't think anyone could write longer author's notes than I did.

Andy: I wrote over a hundred pages about the plot of this story. I may have an exposition problem.

Cody: I wrote over four thousand pages about the plot of this story.

Andy: oh. right.


	33. Vanessa's Vantage (Post-Series Oneshot)

_**Happy back-to-school for anyone it applies to!**_

_**Here is the one-shot I promised, about Albus's old psychiatrist Dr. Varnisse, who turned evil and attempted to kill him. This is the day she began working for Wilcox. The facts you will learn from this one-shot were initially supposed to appear at some point in the series, but although they present staggering degrees of change to what the reader knows, I always felt like it would be forced and out-of-place to have inserted it anywhere in the series, especially since the events of this day were never supposed to be known by anybody except the two who made the plans. And since these events change what we know about the situation but wouldn't really affect what any of the characters' decisions would be even if they'd known, I decided it worked best as a one-shot through Vanessa Varnisse's point of view, and I'm very pleased at how it turned out; because it condensed all of the related relevant information into one place, without some crazy thing happening to conveniently reveal the information to our main characters. After all... the entire point of what happens in this story is that no one was supposed to find out what happens in this story. And the plan went more perfectly than any other plan in the entire series: no one ever DID find out.**_

_**But you get to find it out now!**_

* * *

_July 15, 2006_

VANESSA'S VANTAGE

Vanessa slid a finger down the hours of her calendar. Another productive Saturday. Everything that was written in had already been taken care of, the day before or the week before. Her life was in perfect order, as usual. She'd come a long way from the days when everything was done half an hour _after_ she was supposed to do it; Hogwarts was a struggle, but higher education had whipped her into shape. So had her profession; as a psychologist, she knew all sorts of tricks that worked to fool her mind into doing the things she didn't want to do. For example—writing everything on her calendar.

Right before she reached the bottom of the day, though, her fingernail passed a hasty scrawl that she had nearly forgotten.

_Helio here with Chrianna_

_Of course,_ she remembered. _Helio called._

She had been booked during her normal weekday hours, but Helio needed her to see his daughter as soon as possible. Chrianna Wilcox was only three years old and she had lost her mother very recently to an Auror raid; they needed to make sure she was mentally all right. That sort of trauma could destroy a child if it were left to marinate in her head. It was not only the loss of her mother, but the revelation that her mother had been working for an insane supervillain… and was just killed by the _good guys._

She didn't know how Chrianna was doing right now, or whether anyone had told her the truth yet, or whether anyone had even told her what had happened yet; all she knew was that Helio was a good friend and was in desperate need. She wasn't specifically a child psychologist, but she would do the best she could with whatever state Chrianna was currently in. And come to think of it, it would probably be a good idea to check up on Helio, too. He would be undoubtedly having no less of a difficulty dealing with this revelation about his wife.

There was a sharp knock on her door. Vanessa turned and flicked her wand; the door slowly opened, and Helio Wilcox was standing there, holding his daughter Chrianna, whose head was buried in the nook between his shoulder and neck.

"Evening, Dr. Varnisse," said Helio, readjusting his grip and shuffling Chrianna further up his shoulder.

Vanessa chuckled. "You never call me _doctor._"

"Sorry, Vanessa," said Helio with a grimace, readjusting Chrianna again.

Vanessa's brow lowered ever so slightly. He never called her _Vanessa,_ either. Ever since they'd met at Hogwarts, Helio had always called her _Nessa._ He gave personalized nicknames to most people he knew, and he was in fact the only person who called her _Nessa_ apart from her own parents.

"It's all right," said Vanessa, though she was worried this was some sort of reaction to the events; perhaps Helio's brain wasn't working right. Getting your world turned upside down like that could do that to you.

"I really appreciate you taking Chrianna for a while," he said, and Chrianna bunched up his shirt tighter in her little fists, pressing her face so hard into his neck that he grimaced. "Thank you so much for working out of your home on a Saturday."

"It's not work," said Vanessa. "This is a favor. We all need a little help sometimes, and the best way _not_ to get that help is to ignore when someone else needs that help."

"Thanks," said Helio. "I'll be back to pick her up whenever you call for me. I'd stay, but Zayn is watching Exorian right now and I don't want to keep him waiting—"

"_No, Daddy!_" screamed Chrianna, pounding his collar bone; he winced with each tiny fierce blow. "_No, I don't want to go!_"

"You've seen Vanessa before, honey, you know Vanessa—"

"_NO, DON'T LEAVE! DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE MUM!_"

Helio grimaced again at Vanessa.

"_I WANT TO GO BACK! I WANT MY MUM!_"

"You have _me,_ and I'm only leaving you for an hour or so!" snapped Wilcox. "Now is this any way to act? Would Mum like to see you throwing a tantrum like this? What would she say? Is this a way she taught you to act?"

Vanessa watched with deep concern; she had _never_ seen Helio yell at his kids, or even raise his voice. And she had been around Helio and his kids many times, as her son was the same age as Exorian (just a few months) and they played together on many occasions. Even when Chrianna snatched Helio's wand and nearly incinerated her brother and his playmate, Helio never once said a harsh word. Shawna, his wife, was always the one dealing out the discipline. Was Helio trying to fill that role, now that his wife was gone?

This was not what his children needed right now. They needed routine, and comfort. Again, she wasn't specifically a child psychologist, but anyone could tell this was not the way to talk to his daughter when she was coping poorly with a crisis.

It occurred to her that the best way to help Chrianna might be to help her father. It would probably be a good idea to check Helio's mind to make sure everything was all right in there. Helio hadn't consented to it, specifically, but he had asked her to help Chrianna, and if this was the way to do it… She wouldn't do this to a patient, of course, but Helio was a close friend who was clearly undergoing more mental duress than any patient she'd had recently, and in this state, he probably wasn't going to open up to her if she asked him up front. No, she needed to stage an intervention now.

Helio wasn't an angry person, but he might not take kindly to a mental intrusion. She readied her mind; done correctly, she could penetrate a person's thoughts and see what was going on in their heads without them ever even realizing she was there. And that was what she planned to do here. As Helio continued to whisper strict-sounding words into his sobbing daughter's ear, Vanessa coiled her mind, and she struck with delicate and subtle Legilimency to see what was going on in there.

As soon as she entered Helio's thoughts, she realized that something was very, very wrong.

This was not Helio's mind. She'd gotten to know him very well over the years from Hogwarts and since, and this was not Helio. Someone was impersonating him, or mind-controlling him, because the thought structure here was the thought structure of someone who was pure evil. Dark thoughts drifted by, and she drifted towards one to sense its contents…

She gasped inwardly as she looked at the individual behind all of the focus points of this brain. In each and every one of the thoughts that streaked past her, Helio Wilcox was not the center of these thoughts. He was not the one to whom these memories belonged.

It was Helio's _wife_.

Vanessa wasn't in Helio's head. She was in Shawna Wilcox's head. Shawna Wilcox was the one standing in front of her—she was impersonating her husband.

The way she saw it, this could only mean one of three horrible options: Either Shawna had killed her husband and was impersonating him, or they had switched places and allowed Helio to die in her place, or the couple had faked Shawna's death somehow and she was impersonating him whenever she was out in public. But the last two would have implied Helio was consorting with evildoers, and Vanessa had known the man long enough to know he wasn't even capable of copying a problem off of someone else's homework, let alone being capable of conspiring to Dark magic.

Shawna had killed her husband and had taken his place. There was no other way to explain it.

She snapped back into her own head just as Helio (or Shawna) turned back to face her. She calmed her mind, and tried not to sweat or to let her extremities tremble.

"I'm sorry," said Helio's voice. "Chrianna just won't settle down and listen."

"You have to do what's best for your daughter's mental health," said Vanessa, proud of herself for keeping her voice from cracking. "I'll see her when she's calmer. I don't think we'd accomplish anything right now. We'll reschedule."

"Yes, thank you," spoke Helio's voice again. "I appreciate your understanding."

"Get Chrianna home," said Vanessa, swallowing a lump in her throat, trying to get this imposter out of her house as soon as possible without drawing suspicion. "We can figure out the details later; you need to attend to your daughter now."

"I'll contact you later."

Helio's body left the room, but Vanessa's fine-tuned mental magic sensed a growing distrust and hostility. Shawna had picked up some cue that Vanessa knew the truth.

"Oh God," Vanessa whispered as soon as the door closed behind Shawna. "Oh, God."

She sprinted to her desk and picked up a quill. She had to report this to the Auror Office immediately. She reached for her ink—

The bottle of ink promptly zoomed away from her. She looked up sharply, as a man dressed in dark hooded robes caught the ink bottle in one hand, a smirk slowly stretching across his face.

Vanessa reached for her wand, but was Disarmed the second she clasped her fingers around it, and the wand went flying across the room. She cowered against the wall, powerless against the stranger—what sort of man was powerful enough that she couldn't even sense his mental presence in the room?

"Pleasure to meet you," said the man, pulling back his hood. He was unremarkable-looking except for a dark tan… and for the fact that one of his eyes was brown and the other was red.

Vanessa screamed. Gallen Ingot was here, in her home; they knew she had picked up on Shawna Wilcox, and now she was dead. There was nothing she could do, and no one would know the truth about Helio—

"Hold up there," said the stranger. "I know I look the part, but I'm not Ingot. And don't worry too much about him—he's not due much longer for the world up here."

Vanessa tried to breach his mind, to shut down his brain long enough for her to get her wand and escape, but the stranger resisted her efforts entirely.

"No mind tricks, please," said the stranger. "You have an important decision to make here, and this discussion needs to be held in the proper manner."

"If you're not Ingot, then—who are you?" demanded Vanessa, trying to buy herself more time. Maybe one of her neighbors heard her first scream and was getting the Aurors here… She needed to stall him, find some way to stop him. It wasn't just her life that depended on it. Her infant son in the other room depended on her as well. And everyone who was in danger from Shawna Wilcox currently walking free.

"The name—the original name, anyway—is Draxler Cordot."

Vanessa had heard the name before, but she only vaguely recognized it. It felt like the way she recognized old names from her History of Magic textbook.

"I don't know you," spat Vanessa.

Soft cries began emanating from her bedroom. Her heart stopped. If Cordot didn't know she had a son yet, he certainly did now…

"If you hurt my son," she murmured, "I swear to God, you will never again know a world without pain."

"Well, your son is partially why I'm here," said Cordot. "Not to hurt him, though! No! Not to hurt anyone. Precisely and perfectly the opposite, as a matter of fact."

If anything, Vanessa now was more suspicious than ever of the stranger's intentions, especially after he'd fixated on her son.

"In the current path of fate, however, many will be hurt. Many will die. Most will perish in the coming war."

"Someone will stop Gallen Ingot," said Vanessa. "People like him never prevail."

"Yes, someone will stop Gallen Ingot—Adelina Nelson will, and she'll do it tonight, as a matter of fact," said Cordot. "But as for the second part of your prior statement, the creature you just saw exit your door is _not_ 'like' Gallen Ingot. No, she is phenomenally worse. Much more cold and calculating, and much more dangerous. She cast a spell of astronomical power and intense darkness to place her mind into her husband's body, right before they killed her. Helio Wilcox is gone for eternity; his mind and his entire being were obliterated from the universe when she assumed control over his body. And using this body, she will end this world as you know it."

_So I was right about Shawna Wilcox,_ thought Vanessa, a cold sweat forming all over. _But… why is this man telling me about this? And how did he know about Shawna; why wouldn't he have gone to the Aurors already if he purports his intentions to be good?_

"You need to understand the decision that is about to be put in front of you," said Cordot. "I am not here to force you into changing your fate. Again, the opposite. I am here to fully explain the choice you have today, and tomorrow, and many days to come."

Vanessa didn't answer; hopefully, he would go on until someone came to help. She had to believe someone was coming to help.

"You know, of course, that Ginny Weasley, wife to Harry Potter, is extremely pregnant with their second son."

"Yes," said Vanessa, raising a brow; where was this going?

"Albus Severus Potter will grow up to be a wonderful young man," said Cordot.

_Where the absolute hell is this conversation going? Where did it even START?_

"A Quidditch star, a friend to many in their times of need, a beacon of light to more. A scholar to end all scholars, if you will. And just before he turns seventeen, he will be murdered. By Shawna Wilcox, disguised as her deceased husband Helio."

"How… do you know this?" asked Vanessa.

"I'm tapped into the workings of destiny and fate even more than I am tapped into the workings of the physical world," said Cordot. "Believe me when I tell you that when Albus Potter dies, so does the world's only chance of salvation from Shawna Wilcox."

"What does this have to do with me?" asked Vanessa. "You said I have a choice. I _was_ making a choice. I am going to write a letter to the Aurors now. Notify them of her true identity. They'll take her down, and she won't be able to kill anyone."

"Wrong," said Cordot. "Though her machinations are only in their infancy, she already has many people on the inside of the system. Your cry for help will reach only the ears of Shawna's henchmen. And it will get you and your son killed."

"Then I'll go to Harry Potter himself," said Vanessa. "Why are you trying to discourage me from going after the person who you say is putting me and my son in danger?!"

"Wrong," said Cordot. "You and your son will live. Many people you know will die, and you may be forced to do things you do not want to do in order to prove that you should be allowed to live. But you and your son, specifically, _will_ happen to be among the few who will be able to live long and happy lives if Shawna Wilcox takes over."

"Then what is the other option you're talking about?" asked Vanessa, now getting impatient with the insanity of the logical leaps occurring in front of her.

"You would go to Wilcox," said Cordot, "and you would request to join her."

He didn't seem to be joking.

"And this," said Vanessa, "is what you're telling me is the _good_ option? Me joining her is the option that will _not_ lead to Shawna Wilcox's conquest of the world?"

"Correct," said Cordot. "But I sense you are not fully convinced as to why the options are on the table in this way. So let me lay out the three options you have, with as much clarity as possible.

"One option is for you to try and oust Shawna Wilcox, try to destroy her plans yourself. But I am telling you that I know you will fail, and your son will be slaughtered before your eyes prior to your own execution. It would take thousands of years for you to understand the complexity of the destiny in front of the world; you must trust me when I say that the defeat of Shawna Wilcox is the only option for the world, if it wants to avoid endless wars for power. You must take my word that this first option is not an option you can take. So let me explain the only two options you have left.

"In the first option you have left, you could of course do nothing. With the current configuration of events, you and your son will live long lives. Billions of people will perish, but you and your son will not have your lives cut short. You will find happiness somehow. I will not lie to you and say you or your son will be unhappy. Both of you will live happy lives. There will be immense pain at times, but all people experience that. Let me stress it to you again: _Billions of people will perish, but you and your son will live happy lives._

"And in the second option, you could pretend to join Shawna Wilcox. Work to dismantle her operation from the inside out. Believe me, the extent of her power is already too great to be taken down by one tattle-tale, but you can do enough damage to thwart her most major plans. Eventually, she will begin to distrust you, and she will enslave your mind, so she can have total assurance of your total compliance. And very soon after that, you will be murdered." Cordot paused, and took a deep breath. "But the chain of dominos which you will set off… will have the result of saving Albus Potter, who can possibly save the planet."

Vanessa stood, dumbfounded.

"Albus Potter," said Cordot, "is the only hope for the world to save itself. His chances are still slim. But he is the best chance. Yet he will not get that chance, _unless you choose the second option._"

"But how could I save him?" asked Vanessa. "Don't I… get enslaved and then murdered in the second option?"

"_Exactly,_" confirmed Cordot. "You will die in the second option, but in the aftermath of your death, you would cast a spell of immense power upon Albus Potter. By choosing the second option, and _willingly giving up your otherwise intact life_ to save Albus Potter's life, you will invoke the same spell which Albus Potter's grandmother invoked upon his father. Sacrificial protection—the only thing that protected Harry from Voldemort, and many times over."

"_What?_" scoffed Vanessa. "Sacrificial protection—but how? Lily Potter threw herself in front of a Killing Curse to save Harry Potter—"

"Wrong," said Cordot. "She was asked to move aside. She was _given the decision_ that she could live if she stepped away from her son. But she refused. And so Voldemort struck her down. She chose to stand between her son and Voldemort, giving up an assuredly full life to try and make one last effort to protect her son. She made the conscious decision to give up her life, out of the love in her heart; the desire to save Harry.

"You are faced with the same choice now, and the effect will be the same despite that it is not your son, or that he is not even born yet. If you choose the first option, you will live happily; I will erase your memory of this encounter, and of the encounter with Shawna. You _will_ live a long and happy life with your son.

"If you choose the second option, the chain of events will end with you laying a spell of protection upon Albus Potter. He will be safe, hidden from Wilcox's gaze until he turns seventeen, just precisely long enough to give him a fighting chance. Whether or not he succeeds—that is a matter of fate so complicated that I cannot foresee it. What I _can_ see is that he is the world's best fighting chance. The best chance we have to save billions of lives."

"But Harry was only protected when living in the same house as one of the relatives of the person who died for him," said Vanessa. "Albus would have to be living in my family dwelling, or sharing his living space with a family member of mine, for the spell's protection to linger—wouldn't he?"

"More or less," said Cordot, smirking. "But fate has a funny way of working out."

"So you're saying," repeated Vanessa slowly, "that I have a choice. Willingly die to save Albus Potter, even though he may not succeed in saving the world… or continue my own life and live a long and happy life with my son, even as billions of people die in pain."

"Precisely," said Cordot.

"That doesn't sound like much of a choice," said Vanessa, her heart rate rising in anticipation.

"You have the more important choice," said Cordot, "of whether or not to believe what I say."

Vanessa stared him down, trying to figure this man out.

"It would certainly be easier to discount me as a raving lunatic," said Cordot. "Unfortunately, that is not the case. I must get you to trust me. That's the only way the spell will work—if you truly see this as a choice between life and death for you, in order to give someone else a fighting chance."

"Even though things might not work out the way you say they will," said Vanessa.

Cordot nodded slowly.

"So one of my options is to tell Shawna Wilcox I know who she is, and that I want to join her, but to work against her from the inside," said Vanessa. "And you're saying that this will undoubtedly, one hundred percent, get me killed before my time… but that Albus will be saved."

"Exactly," said Cordot.

"But he'll only be protected until he is seventeen?"

"Yes," said Cordot.

"And he may fail."

"He may."

Vanessa stared Cordot down.

"So you understand the choice in front of you?"

"I… I do," said Vanessa.

"Then I will leave you," said Cordot, "to decide. To decide whether or not to heed my advice—to decide whether or not you believe what I say. And, in doing so, to decide the fate of Albus Potter… and of the world."

Cordot vanished with a loud crack.

The first thing Vanessa did when he was gone was to pull out the newspaper from yesterday, with a picture of Gallen Ingot on the front cover. Ingot did not share much of his appearance with her intruder; just the eye. Of course, Ingot could have changed his appearance; he had been capable of far more terrible things thus far. But then if it were Ingot, why wouldn't he have just killed Vanessa and her son, instead of leaving them alive, with the choice still available to go to the Aurors with the information about Shawna? Maybe he was playing with her—he was known to do that. How many other people had one brown eye and one red eye? But why so complicated a story? And how could he have pulled that whole routine out of his hat so quickly following Vanessa's discovery of Shawna Wilcox's disguise?

So she was expected to trust him—to join Shawna, to pretend to be on her side, and this would eventually end her life? But the desire to protect Harry's unborn son would end up saving Albus's life up until he was seventeen? And she was supposed to take this on faith?

Vanessa paced the floor for hours. The clock spun onward, hour after hour, as she turned the situation over in her mind.

Shawna had noticed Vanessa's suspicions, anyway. If one were to discount _everything_ Cordot had said, then she would have to discount his suggestion that she and her son would live long, happy lives following the decision to take option number one. That meant Shawna may burst in at any time to kill the family, to avoid taking the chance that Vanessa spoke these suspicions. And now that Vanessa was evidently caught in the middle of something much greater than herself, the chances were growing and growing that her small family would not live to see many more days.

But if she _did_ trust Cordot… and if she _did_ take option number two… He had never actually said _when_ she would die. What would become of her young son if she died so soon? She had no other family to take him in if she was gone…

Speaking of family, even if this all worked out, there was the matter of actually making use of the spell she would apparently cast. For the spell he was talking about to take effect, Albus Potter would have to be living in a dwelling that someone from her family considered his or her home. How could this be, if she had no family that she knew of? Orphaned at a young age, with no aunts, uncles, or grandparents, and then becoming a single mother, there was absolutely no one tied to her blood. How could that part of the spell work out, if she had no family members with whom Albus Potter could live? All Cordot had responded to that inquiry was "fate has a funny way of working out."

Vanessa sighed, and the clock spun further and further into the night.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from the streets, breaking her away from her thoughts. People were leaving their homes and screaming elatedly in the pitch-black streets; fireworks exploded into the air of their small wizarding community as neighbors hugged and Patronuses flew all around, screaming joyful news. This could only mean one thing…

"GALLEN INGOT IS DEAD!" shouted a woman to all of the other houses where people were poking their heads out of windows to find out what was going on. "ADELINA NELSON DID IT! SHE GOT HIM JUST NOW! IT'S OFFICIAL! THE DARK REVIVAL IS OVER!"

_Adelina Nelson did it…?_

Cordot's prediction had been correct.

The cries returned from her bedroom, and Vanessa rushed to her son, who had been awoken by the jubilation outside. She hugged him tight, and kissed away the cries, but was slowly starting to realize the decision she had to make, and what that meant for her young son.

She didn't know when she would be killed, and she couldn't let her son go into an orphanage like she had; she had to choose his new home now while she was still alive and in control of his fate. She had to find a loving family to adopt him while she could still choose that family… Even if she had to rewrite the memories of the adoptive parents and everyone she knew to avoid explaining herself or putting her son in danger.

She slowly started to realize a clear option. There was a young man and a young woman whom she had been counseling for quite some time; they were distraught over their inability to have a child. They were a couple overflowing with love with no child to receive it. She'd been to their home for dinner and they had a lovely home; she'd met the rest of the family and it was a lovely family. She knew they would take excellent care of her son. She could give her child to that family now, before he grew too attached to a mother he would inevitably have to lose. Before he ended up like Chrianna—devastated at the loss of a mother, and at the revelation that she was apparently working for the side of evil. She'd already seen what that had done to a child, and she would give anything for it not to happen to her son; even if it wasn't true, she doubted that the world would ever know her true motivations. She'd be considered a villain for all of time.

But the prospect of being thought of as a minion of evil wasn't even anywhere near as difficult as parting with her perfect little boy. Though it was difficult, she had to think about the whole picture—that was another of her mental strategies to do things she really didn't want to do. If it meant that her son would be saved from the horrible loss he would feel when she was gone… and he would grow up in a world that wasn't ruled by the most evil witch she had ever encountered… and if it meant that the rest of the mothers of the world wouldn't have to lose their equally precious children to Shawna's reign of terror…

Assuming that Albus somehow found a long-lost family member of hers to travel with while he tried to defeat Wilcox.

She carried her son to the wall where her calendar hung, and with tears streaming down her face, she clicked the pen. Writing things on her calendar, after all, was how she always got herself to do the things she really didn't want to do.

She began writing a new note under Sunday:

_Call the McKinnons about adopting Alec_


End file.
